


Wonderwall

by Terrapin8



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Angst, Eventual Romance, Eventual Smut, F/M, Harry Potter Epilogue What Epilogue | EWE, Minor Violence, Post-Canon, Slow Burn, Unresolved Sexual Tension
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-12-09
Updated: 2020-12-09
Packaged: 2021-02-27 16:15:22
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 15
Words: 90,273
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22179919
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Terrapin8/pseuds/Terrapin8
Summary: "—what is one to do when they are simply not given an option?" Malfoy sneered.For the first time in her life, Hermione Granger did not have an answer. She frowned as she contemplated his words. The wording was simple but the implication was heavy;He didn't have a choice.AU in which Hermione is the one who confronts Draco in the boy's lavatory and how it changes their lives from that moment on. PostHBP HG/DM
Relationships: Hermione Granger/Draco Malfoy
Comments: 94
Kudos: 219





	1. Prologue: The Bathroom

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Disclaimer: I do not own anything. All the credit goes to JK Rowling who created these wonderful characters and story lines and made my mind run wild with 'what ifs'. Enjoy!
> 
> Please see the note below!

Hermione honestly wished she had skipped breakfast this morning.

She had been over the moon following yesterday's events. Ron subconsciously gravitated towards her in St. Mungo's after his poisoning, leaving Lavender Brown quite devastated as a result, much to Hermione's satisfaction and Harry's amusement. She sat by his bedside for a good portion of the day to watch over him as he recovered. Once nightfall came, she left his side to retreat back to her dormitory to sleep after a long day. Truth be told, she only left because Madam Pomfrey shooed her away once visiting hours were over.

Now come to find in the morning Ron thought he was merely boggled from the events that occurred. She was not pleased, to say the least. Forcing herself to ignore the subject for the moment, she turned her attention to Harry who was still studying that wretched book. She made it clear she did not like the malevolent ambiance that surrounded this particular version of the textbook. Not to mention some of the content he had shown her previously. It was clear whoever the previous owner was had a considerable fascination and appreciation for the dark arts. She made to comment on it before she noticed someone walking by out of the corner of her eye.

She gasped, "Harry, that's Katie—" she whispered, "—Katie Bell."

Recognition flashed across his eyes and turned his attention to where Hermione was looking. Spotting Katie, Harry closed his edition of the potions textbook, carrying it with him as he stood and proceeded to make his way over to her. Hermione and Ron watched the two interact from afar, witnessing Harry's posture slump slightly in disappointment after a few words were exchanged.

"Guessing she still doesn't know, eh?" Ron whispered to her. Hermione went to reply but found herself unable to.

She froze. She felt ice run down her veins when she saw Katie's gaze pivot away from Harry. Confused, she followed her line of sight. It made her turn her head straight forward, surprising her when she saw Draco Malfoy standing directly in front of her. She found his attention was not on her or Ron, but on Katie. The tension grew exponentially when Harry turned around, eyes narrowing as he saw what caused Katie's abrupt change in behavior. Hermione could practically see the gears turning in his head, working similarly to her own. The funny thing was, she didn't really need to think about it. The guilt in Malfoy's eyes and the way Katie became rigid with his presence said it all. Judging from the rage arising in Harry's eyes, he came to the same conclusion. But really, he had had his suspicions all along.

Now he had confirmation.

Before her very own eyes, she saw Malfoy begin to unravel. He started to fidget, likely due to his discomfort at the unwanted attention. His eyes darted briefly around the Great Hall and downward before turning his heel, keeping his head down as he hastily walked out the way he came in.

She saw Harry's jaw clench. If being his best friend the last six years had told her anything, Hermione knew instantly Harry had just made up his mind about something. And knowing him, he was planning on doing something extremely foolish.

When he made a move to follow Malfoy, Hermione jumped up from her seat, nearly knocking the food over as she less-than-gracefully maneuvered across the surface of the table. She hopped off and stood her ground in front of the frenzied wizard. Small hands were planted firm on his chest, halting him in his step.

"Harry, NO." Hermione stood her ground and kept her eyes focused on him.

"Hermione, he's getting away. You saw the look on his face. You _know_ he did it," he quietly pleaded with her.

"That may be, Harry, but your obsession over him this year has turned you into a complete nutter." she hissed. Although the words were kept at a low volume between them, the underlying urgency was clear in her tone. Ron barely managed to get a word of the conversation even being in close proximity to the two. "I'll go—" She chose to speak at a normal volume this time, indicating that it was meant for Ron to hear as well.

"But—"

"—and don't try to entertain any ideas of you 'talking it out' with him. You'd probably end up injuring him or something."

Ron was befuddled. "You're joking, right? You're actually worried about that ferret getting hurt? Don't tell me you're getting soft on the bloke, 'Mione."

"Of course not." She responded harshly. "But one of us has to be sensible. Now stay put. _Both_ of you." She bit back any further comments and proceeded to hurry in the same direction Malfoy took off to before either Harry or Ron could protest.

She kept up a quick pace in her step until she had a manageable distance between them. The echoes of his shoes clicking on the floor kept up with the anxious thudding in her chest. Judging by his haste footing, he was a few paces shy of running. While being as swift as she could manage, Hermione made her way down the corridor with light footsteps, cautious not to make any alerting noises.

She waited to round the corner as he approached the end of the corridor in case he glanced past his shoulder to see if he was being followed. When she continued behind him, she could see him tugging at his tie and the button of his collar as if he were being suffocated. She eyed him curiously as she studied his mannerisms, hoping it could give her some assistance for when she eventually confronted him.

She cursed under her breath as he ducked into the boy's lavatory. She figured it was the universe punishing her for forcing Harry and Ron into the girl's bathroom second year. Not to mention the time they rescued her from a troll their first year, also in a girl's lavatory.

Yes, perhaps it was an overdue punishment.

As the distance between her and entrance to the lavatory drew to a close, she grew hesitant.

Relax, she told herself. _It's just Malfoy._ But that in itself was the problem.

He hated her and her kind. More than anything it seemed. Too late to turn back now , she concluded as she forced herself to continue onward, breaching the entrance to the lavatory.

Hermione steadied her slow pace, keeping her ears alert.

 _Shuffling of fabric...an old, rusty knob to a faucet being turned...frantic breathing...water splashing_.

She kept her back pressed against the wall as she got closer. Once she reached the edge, she stayed hidden as she took a quick glance into the lavatory. He had removed his jumper and was hunched over the sink. When she briefly looked at his reflection in the mirror, she did not expect to see him so troubled. So broken. She certainly did not expect to hear the gut wrenching sobs suddenly being expelled from his throat. Hermione grimaced, refusing to let the sympathetic part of her become dominant before knowing the reason behind his tears.

It was now or never.

She took a deep breath to calm her nerves before turning the final corner. She was placed several feet away behind him before she hesitantly took a step forward.

"Malfoy?" she spoke softly as she did not want to startle him. He hadn't heard her.

" _Draco_?" She tried again in the same hushed tone.

He immediately looked up from the sink to the mirror in a panic, focusing his eyes on her figure. He turned to face her, outwardly conflicted on what to do now knowing he was no longer alone. He decided to settle for the defensive tactic, instinctively grabbing his wand from its holster, determination flashed in his scrutiny.

She almost rolled her eyes at him as she quickly reached for her own wand, taking aim.

How predictable.

" _Expelliarmus_ ," she chanted effortlessly. His wand was jerked from his grip before landing in her left hand, her right still armed and aimed at his chest. "Honestly, what is it with you men resorting to your wand for everything? Have you ever tried simple conversation?" she asked incredulously.

His eyes filled with manic and fear drew themselves back. His posture was fixed. As if he suddenly remembered who his audience was.

"What do you want, Mudblood?" He spat, seemingly pleased when she recoiled slightly, viewing him with disgust. "Last I checked, this was the _boy's_ lavatory. Come to sneak a peek?" he sneered.

She lowered her wand, unsettled as she took in his appearance in its entirety and in such close proximity. His pristine grey eyes were strained and sunken in, his beautiful pale complexion, now a sickly version of what it once was. His shirt and trousers clung loosely to his figure. It was unsettling to her how his expensive and tailored clothes did not seem to fit him anymore.

"Hardly. There doesn't seem to be much to look at." She bit back.

Instantly, she knew that wasn't the right thing to say when she saw him tense up. Hermione could tell he knew she was referring to his thinning and disheveled appearance. But something about him made her want to throw away all reason and remove any filters she normally had.

He scoffed. "Whatever. Now give me back my wand." He held his hand out but she held a firm grip on both of their wands.

"Why? So you can hex me? Petrify me for someone to find like you did to Harry?" She asked, frowning.

"The tosser deserved it! He was spying on me on the train! He—" he shut his eyes and took a deep breath, attempting to calm himself. "Look Granger, I really don't have time to deal with you and your bloody Gryffindor friends and I certainly do not have to explain myself to you. So if you don't mind—"

"Are you alright?" the words spilled from her mouth before she could take them back. He narrowed his eyes as he looked at her suspiciously.

" _What_ _?_ "

Where's your Gryffindor bravery, Hermione?

Louder, she asked again. "I said are you alright?"

"Am I alright—" he echoed tauntingly. "They call you the brightest witch of our generation, don't they? What do you think?" he snapped harshly. She could tell he was only acting out his frustrations.

"And you're second behind me in all of our classes, what do you think I think?" She quipped back.

"I think you're full of shite."

"How eloquent of you. Want to try something a little more advanced?"

"I think you're _exceptionally_ full of shite."

"Oh sod off Malfoy, I'm trying to help—"

"I don't need any help. Certainly not from you."

"Why? Afraid of accepting help from someone like me? A _mudblood_?" Testing the word on her tongue felt strange. What was even more strange to her was when he flinched at her words.

"You're part of Potter's little 'Golden Trio.' You have absolutely no regard for the rules and you get pardoned for it all just because you're 'doing the right thing'."

"That's what you think?" She was appalled as that was the furthest thing from the truth. "We are not immune to the rules or the repercussions of our actions, Malfoy. We endure the same consequences as everyone else."

"So what? Does Potter get his sidekicks to do his dirty work when it gets to be too much for him?" He challenged.

She narrowed her eyes, "Excuse me?"

"Did he send you here to interrogate me? To get the answers he failed to get for himself?" He finally asked.

"No, he didn't." she said. He scoffed disbelievingly. "No really, I saw you run off and I—" she froze as she realized she didn't have any good reason to provide without letting him know she wanted to prevent either of them from hurting each other.

"I just wanted to make sure you were alright. That's all." She settled on that answer.

"You Gryffindors and your ridiculous morals," he spoke derisively. "I'm fine, Granger. Quit pressing."

"But you were upset. You were just cr—" she sputtered.

"I've been under a lot of stress. What of it? School doesn't come easy to all of us." He was stubborn. Unfortunately for him, so was she.

"Malfoy, when was the last time you slept—?" His eyes darkened. Not for the first time tonight, he seemed caught off guard, though this time he recovered quickly.

"—or ate a full meal?"

"Worried about me, are you Granger?" He smirked.

She saw through this one somehow. Hermione recognized the smirks and sneers he threw at her and her friends over the years. They were always intended to be taunting or menacing. This one was neither. This one was him attempting to build a wall. A wall he desperately wanted to put up as quickly as possible between them.

"How would your precious Weasley feel if he knew you were off getting worked up over another bloke? Or would he even notice?" his smirk grew at her chagrin.

"You-you're barking. How do you—?" She was floored.

"Seriously? You've already deduced I'm not an idiot. Anyone can see it, thus proving my point that the Weasel is truly as daft as I thought."

"Don't talk about him like that." She spoke tightly.

He eyed her curiously. "Why? Are you going to tell me I'm wrong?"

"Well, no but—why do you act like this?" she asked, exasperated.

"I think I've made it very clear why, Granger."

"No, I know you act like a prat because you simply are an arrogant, spoiled, entitled, rotten, Pureblooded arse—"

"—you left out devastatingly handsome," he remarked. It was almost a relief to see his old self back even for just a second. But she needed to get her point across.

"You're so guarded all the time. It's as if you're paranoid that something bad is going to happen at any moment. You've been different since the start of the year. I recognize school stress and I know for a fact that is not what this is. We're the furthest thing from friends and most of the time, I would love nothing more than to hex—"

She cut herself off, knowing her next words would have gotten her nowhere. She considered her next statement. Throwing caution to the wind, she cleared her throat and let her next words come out without hindrance. "—but as a fellow classmate I am concerned for your health."

He swallowed uncomfortably, "Your brilliance has always been the bane of my existence, Granger. Surely this is a subject you can figure out for yourself. I know you've already put some thought into it—" her eyes flickered down to his left forearm which was still covered by his white oxford. A subtle act which did not go unnoticed by him.

He drew his lips into a thin line before continuing, "In fact, I wouldn't be surprised if you've already come to your own conclusions—" he spoke with a softness Hermione had never heard from him before. Realizing he purposefully left his statement open ended as a question, she answered by nodding hesitantly.

He shut his eyes as he took in a deep breath. She thought it was to cope with the fact that she basically confessed her suspicions of him and his allegiance. However, when he opened his eyes again, they were empty.

She was perplexed. He had taken the time during her rant to his advantage. He challenged her to distract her, knowing she wouldn't be able to resist. And he had succeeded. The wall had been completely built.

"Then I believe we are done here," he confirmed, emotionless.

That was it. He made it clear he was not interested in talking anymore.

She failed.

"No, I told you I'm not here because of Harry. That's not fair—"

"Life's not fair. And whoever said so is rolling around is laughing in his grave like a twat." He retorted.

Was he being serious right now?

"Everyone has a choice, Malfoy. You made yours explicitly all those years ago when you said we were the 'wrong sort'. I think it's only fair that you own up to that choice."

"I imagine I've done a fine job at that. You still hate me, don't you?" He replied smoothly.

Hermione avoided the question. "You were just upset a moment ago! You don't get to suddenly feel bad about a decision you clearly made." She knew she hit a rough spot the second his eyes darkened.

"Is that so?" His voice lowered as he took a step forward. Hermione hadn't noticed they somehow made their way closer to each other during their confrontation. She wondered if he did. She began to back up to the wall when he continued to step forward.

He definitely noticed.

"Enlighten me, Granger. Since you are under the pretense that one has the privilege of making these choices for oneself—" He now stood in front of her, peering down at her. She was not aware he was that much taller than her.

"—and that one should be judged by the choices they openly made despite the circumstances—" he resumed, closing in on her.

"That's not what I—" she attempted to defend when her back touched the wall but he did not give any pause.

"—but what is one to do when they are simply not given an option?" Malfoy sneered.

For the first time in her life, Hermione Granger did not have an answer. She frowned as she contemplated his words. The wording was simple but the implication was heavy;

He didn't have a choice.

She suddenly had a feeling he was not talking about their childhood feud anymore.

He sighed, he reached forward to take his wand easily from her relaxed hold. She didn't even bother fighting for it. There was no point.

"Do us a favor and stay away from me, Granger. Don't follow me, quit your worrying and just make it easier for everyone." He spoke firmly before backing to walk past her and out of the lavatory.

Her eyes stayed glued to the floor as she heard his retreating footsteps fade. Had she misjudged him? She shook away the thoughts, remembering where she was. She knew she would get in a great amount of trouble if a professor or another student found her in the boy's lavatory. Hermione began to make her exit as well as she processed the newfound knowledge.

She took her time walking down the corridor on her stroll back to the Great Hall, knowing Harry would be expecting answers. What was she to say? She certainly couldn't tell Harry of what she had learned. That Draco Malfoy was likely a death eater and was definitely the one who hexed Katie Bell. He was already teetering on the edge and this information would cause him to go absolutely ballistic.

She didn't even get Malfoy's reasoning for why. But had she ever really known why? She had always assumed his actions were due to him being naturally born and raised to be such, taking a presence as a bully for mere entertainment and acting out because of jealousy. Maybe it started out that way. But now everything was so...complicated.

Hermione found herself walking through the doorway to the Great Hall where she found Harry and Ron, apparently anxiously waiting for her return. Once they spotted her, their tense postures slouched with content when she appeared unharmed.

When she took her seat beside Ron, Harry wasted no time in breaking the ice.

"Oh good, I was starting to worry about you. So? Did he confess?" He asked.

"Nope, he threatened me. Called me 'Mudblood' a few times, said hateful things about you and sauntered off before I could ask anything." She said, effortlessly. It slightly intimidated her how easy it was for her to lie just now. She was never really known for being a good liar.

"Sounds about right," Ron remarked.

Harry groaned dejectedly, "I knew I should have gone after him myself."

"Stop it, Harry. If you pursued him, it would have only ended horribly." Something fluttered in her chest at that statement. She was just in a room alone with Malfoy and managed a slightly-less-than-hostile conversation with him before coming out unscathed. She did not feel many muggleborns could share the same sentiment.

"I would've gotten answers at least. Whether we fought or not, it would have confirmed my suspicions," he argued.

Hermione opened her mouth to retort but Ron beat her to it. "She's got a point, you know. I'm not a fan of the git either but your... fascination with him this year has made you a little mad if I'm honest—" Ron grimaced and briefly glanced over to Hermione. Almost as if he were looking for confirmation. He exhaled before continuing.

"I also think you should get rid of that book. It's bad news, mate." Her eyes widened. Did he just—

Harry was crestfallen. "Yeah, you're probably right. It practically exudes 'dark arts', doesn't it?" He sighed deeply. "I'll meet with Ginny later on and figure out what to do with the book. I'm still curious as to what this 'sectumsempra' spell does though."

A chill went down her spine. Hermione cast her gaze downwards at the spell written out in the reopened, tattered book. She noticed that it was captioned, 'for enemies'. But perhaps that was what he was. An 'enemy'. Even so, she did not feel comfortable letting Harry confront Malfoy. She did not lie when she claimed to not know of the spell. However, she was able to make an educated guess on what the spell could entail given the Latin terminology. She shuddered thinking her best friend could have resorted to a dark spell as such in the heat of the moment. She knew how Harry could act when provoked.

Later that night, Harry and Ginny went to dispose of that cursed textbook. Hermione settled for going to bed, mind plagued with thoughts of a particular blond. Somewhere in her gut she knew; she saved Draco Malfoy from her very own best friend. The mere fact tugged at her chest but she didn't think the fact that she helped someone she was meant to hate was why. It was the fact that it felt something unfamiliar. She told herself it was merely sympathy. Or pity. At the end of the day, she had her friends to turn to while he was likely alone to deal with all the hardships of school and life. As far as she could tell, he never really had any true friends. He was clearly suffering and he needed someone now more than anything. Perhaps that was the unfamiliar part of it all. The part of her that wished he had let her in.

In the depths of those steely grey eyes before he threw his shields up, she saw a haunted mind, a broken soul. There was so much that he was withholding.

She hoped, whether it was by her or someone else, one day, he would let himself be saved.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: Hello peeps! This is me taking a chance and delving into the fandom of the beloved wizarding world! I will admit this pairing came new to me a few months ago and it hit me like a ton of bricks how quickly I fell in love. Something about the forbidden romance and the promise they could have had makes me wish they were endgame. Inspiration for this comes from the song 'Wonderwall' by Oasis.
> 
> This was initially a stand-alone oneshot but given how many ideas I had, I decided to turn it into a multi chaptered beauty! I have an overall outline for the story so know that there is an ending in mind...in other words, abandoning it will not be an option :P


	2. The Sanctuary

Ch.1: The Sanctuary

Hermione fought ferociously with her bed sheets that evening as she struggled to fall asleep. Her mind simply refused to let her rest. She checked the time;

Just past five in the morning.

She let out a huff of frustration and shoved her sheets off her body before hopping off her bed. Throwing on her jumper and a pair of loose jeans, she grabbed her trainers to slip on as she silently made her way through the Gryffindor common room. For once, she was grateful it was Saturday.

The sky was overcast and dark as it was just shy of being daybreak. The air was cool and the courtyard mostly empty save for herself and a few select professors wandering about the grounds. She crossed her arms around her chest, tucking her hands in her armpits and kept eyes on the ground as she made her way towards the Great Lake.

She walked the familiar path to the spot she liked to read and study at near the lake. The path to the clearing at the lake's edge was covered by tall grass and brush. She first sought refuge here in the middle of their third year after Malfoy had made it a part of his daily routine to torment her. The effects of his continuous teasing and taunting had accumulated and one day it became too much. She broke, running off to an unknown area away from Hogwarts. She pushed through the thick grass as her tears streamed and kept on until she tripped on a large rock mid-step. Her sobs diminished when she looked up and noticed a glimmer in between the large, green blades. Curious, she maneuvered forward a few more meters until she reached open space.

It was an area that no one found themselves desiring to wander off to due to the steep cliff side and it being a fair walk from the castle. This meant foot traffic was nonexistent and there would be stillness in the surroundings aside from natural ambiance. These qualities made it the ideal place for her to be alone with her thoughts. Her spot of choice included a small open patch of low cut grass and was cupped with several large, flat rocks placed snugly among precariously placed ones along the edge. The lake's shore was a good twenty meter drop below. It provided a perfect viewpoint of the lake and the mountains that embraced the sides, completing the background. This location easily became her peace in the midst of all the madness; her safe haven.

She settled herself on the largest rock in the center and stared at the landscape, taking in the view. Sighing, she willingly opened her mental floodgates and finally let her pent up thoughts run free.

An orange-red haze began to appear at the horizon when she heard someone walking through the brush behind her. Her posture remained unchanged when they came to take a place beside her. There were only two people who knew to find her here. Instinctively, she reached for the other person's arm to hold. She leaned into the soft fabric of his jumper, his warmth welcome in the chilly weather.

"Couldn't sleep, either?" He asked gently.

She shook her head.

It was a rare occurrence for him to find a decent night of sleep nowadays. Since the lines between his and Voldemort's mind became blurred, it was difficult for him to cope and adjust to these changes. As his ambitious and naturally curious friend, she occasionally attempted to understand what it was like but always fell short. There simply wasn't anything she had experienced thus far to compare it to. She felt helpless in the times when there was nothing she could do besides watching him suffer from the sidelines and support him in the aftermath.

While she didn't know how it felt per say, she certainly knew how it felt to have someone close to you hurting. In this particular case, she and Ron knew better than anyone; which was why his next words of choice shocked her.

"I wanted to apologize," he said quietly, guilt-ridden.

Hermione whipped her head to the side to face him.

"Whatever for?" She prompted, shock evident in her tone.

Harry kept his attention forward as he spoke, taking in the serene sight before him. "I know I have been more difficult lately. It's just...these visions, these parts of him that I can see, parts that I can _feel_. They make me sick, Hermione. I hate that I can see what he sees and feel what he feels." He paused as he considered his next words.

Over the years, she learned to give him as much time to talk as he needed without interruption for he usually had more to say. He always did after being deprived of the privilege of speaking freely for so long growing up.

"It wasn't my intention to get on you yesterday. And I apologize. But Voldemort...he's a mad and dangerous person and the fact that someone that we know could be one of his followers. This is someone we go to class with on a daily basis. Granted, he is an arse most of the time and despite how much I can't fucking stand him, we're still on the verge of war. We're on opposite ends of a full blown war and the worst part of it all is that—" he paused, unsure of which part he should choose to proceed with.

"He is still a child...just like us." She finished for him. Clearly that thought had crossed her mind as well.

She watched his brow furrow as he considered his next words. He turned his head to face her.

"You managed to get him to talk yesterday, didn't you?" He asked.

Her eyes widened slightly and he frowned knowingly. "We've been best friends for years, Hermione. I didn't say anything because honestly, I was more shocked at the fact that you lied without batting an eye."

She huffed a humorless laugh. Of course he knew. But he would have never guessed what actually occurred in the bathroom. As much as her mind tried to fight and deny the fact, there was a place within her that felt more than pity for Malfoy. For a brief second in time, she connected with him. She saw a side of him that no one else saw before he shut her out completely. A small portion of her felt guilty for lying but the majority of her felt oddly defensive.

Almost... _protective._

Hermione wanted to mentally slap herself for feeling such a way. She reminded herself she had stopped Harry in his place to prevent _both_ him and Malfoy from certain harm.

"Harry, I'm not sorry for what I did—"

"But you didn't want to upset me because everything I suspected about him was true." He clarified in a calm manner.

She averted her gaze from him to an owl equipped with a package in the distance as it flew over them towards the castle, letting it disappear in her peripheral vision as she resumed, "Yes. I didn't search his arm for the mark," she inhaled shakily while he watched her expectantly. "But I'm positive."

"And Katie?" He inquired further.

"I did not state any specifications or accusations to him but we both know what we saw yesterday. There was never any doubt." She declared strongly.

If the turmoil was not apparent before, it was clear now. It pleased her that Harry was actively processing the information with reason and logic rather than with blind emotion and rage. Now they could discuss these matters with clear thoughts. With this method, it was almost as if they found themselves trying to give Malfoy the benefit of the doubt but they both knew what was inevitable; they both knew what the conclusion would be. Harry was mindful of the various details he was certain Hermione chose to leave out purposefully but didn't pry for he had heard all he needed to hear.

He had apparently let a pause drone on too long because he heard her speak again, "Harry, I won't let you try to confront him on your own—"

"No no, I agree with you." He quickly interjected. "He won't talk to us and he's already taken the mark — wait, how exactly are you positive? Did you outright ask him if he was a death eater?" He asked almost hysterically.

She wrinkled her nose at him. "Of course I didn't outright ask him, Harry. I'm not an idiot. And no matter how much you tell yourself otherwise, he isn't one, either. He figured it out himself."

He grimaced apologetically, "Right. Of course you wouldn't blatantly ask him that. You're brilliant and you know better and I'm sorry. But we are fairly certain he is a death eater now which means he's dangerous. We can't approach him again," he warned.

Hermione wanted to argue that he hadn't harmed her yesterday, momentarily forgetting that she disarmed him when he was clearly about to hex her. Clearly, there was more she needed to contemplate on so she refrained herself from speaking and watched him curiously for a moment. "What are you thinking, Harry?"

He thought for a moment before responding, "We can't let this change anything. We'll have to continue to do as we always have. We will continue to fight. He clearly made his choice. As did we." her breath hitched at his words.

His choice.

"Right." She exhaled softly under her breath.

They let a comfortable silence blanket them as they watched the sky gradually become lighter, still grey with the overcast skies and lack of direct sunlight. The surrounding areas to the school was sure to be riddled with students roaming about the grounds but no voices were heard. Hermione thrived in the tranquil that came with this place.

After a few moments, Harry broke their silence. "So how are things with Ron?"

He bit his lip to keep himself from laughing at her dramatic shift in dynamic. She still demonstrated annoyance but somehow appeared years younger. It was as if discussing adolescent problems reverted them back to being their current age. Like they weren't on the verge of facing a life-altering event.

She growled frustratingly as she dropped her head into her hands, "Honestly, I have never seen someone so overtly oblivious and obtuse!"

"Really? I've always thought him to be a fairly bright bloke—" he let out the laugh he held back as she swiftly smacked him in the chest.

"Don't you dare _joke_ , Harry Potter." She tried to maintain a serious tone but failed miserably, the beginnings of a smile etching its way onto her face. "That is not even _remotely_ funny." she said, fully giggling now.

"Oh, I think it's a little funny," he grinned. "He's my best friend but he's also about as clueless as they come when it comes to emotions. You, Hermione, would choose to fall for someone while knowing that fact."

"Perhaps I like him _because_ of the challenge," she shrugged. "And who are you to talk? You're not exactly a lady's man yourself despite witches throwing themselves at you from all sides!"

"I'd like to think myself a slight improvement, thank you," he replied smugly.

"Is that so? And what of you and Ginny? I heard she helped you hide the book somewhere?" She smirked mischievously as he blushed, but smiled nonetheless.

"She kissed me. In the Room of Requirement." he shyly revealed. Her smirk turned into a genuine expression of adoration.

She quickly pulled him in for a kind embrace which he easily returned.

"That's wonderful, Harry. Merlin knows you deserve to have _some_ happiness in all this," she mumbled into his shoulder.

"Thank you. She does make me happy. I suppose that is what I need now, isn't it?" They pulled apart to meet each other's gaze. She nodded in agreement.

"Now more than ever, I think," she confirmed.

They shifted to resume their original position with her head on his shoulder and arm linked with his, carrying on to let the silence envelop them once more.

A fragment of time passed before Harry spoke up, "Things are about to change again, aren't they?"

Things had shifted drastically after their fourth year in that time of awkwardness and growth. Feelings more than friendship started to get involved made everything overly complicated. Despite the obstacles thrown to tear them apart, they came out stronger in the end. But it was different this time. Harry has found happiness in something as well as gained a new motivation to see to the end of the rising conflict.

The curly haired witch had been aware of it as well but for different reasons. She felt something shift yesterday when she confronted Malfoy in the lavatory. No, before that; when she made the decision to stop Harry from going after him. There were still many questions she wanted answers to. But to his current question, she could answer vaguely.

Her hand found his to intertwine their fingers, finding comfort in the action. She valued their friendship and the fact that they could maintain their closeness without any complications. Perhaps that was why she could not find herself comfortably being as affectionate with Ron.

The mostly-still image in front of them changed when the eagle owl, now empty-handed, passed over them once more. Hermione subconsciously watched its retreating figure fade with the distance when she heard herself speaking seconds later.

"Yes...yes, I think they are..."


	3. The Flashes

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning: Dark themes lie ahead. Read at your own discretion.

Ch.2: The Flashes

**The Astronomy Tower - June, 1997**

Albus Dumbledore would definitely say he had seen better days. For at this particular moment, he was frail. He was severely weakened. He was slightly disoriented. But none of that changed the fact that he was no coward nor a fool.

So as he stood on the deck of Astronomy Tower with Draco Malfoy standing before him with his wand at the ready and Harry Potter witnessing the scene from beneath them, he was very much aware of the situation at hand.

He had been preparing for this day for a very long time, after all.

"I don't want your help. Don't you understand? I have to do this. I have to kill you—" Draco quivered. The moment he had been dreading for all year had finally come. His left hand clenched in a firm fist and the grip on his wand tightened as his mark ached, sensing his antipathy.

The elder wizard watched him with his tired, old eyes; he smiled sadly at him.

"—or he's gonna kill me." His voice broke as a tear forced its way out, not for the first time that evening.

* * *

The news of their beloved headmaster spread quickly once his body was found the following morning. Outrage and fear was dispersed among the staff and students alike.

They were in mourning.

Hermione and Ron discovered the truth at daybreak when they located Harry at the top of the Astronomy Tower. Hermione, as usual, was the one to approach him first.

"Draco?" she asked hesitantly.

"No…no he was lowering his wand. In the end, it was Snape." he said, disheartened. "It was always going to be Snape."

He heard her let out a breath she wasn't aware she was holding.

* * *

**Malfoy Manor - July, 1997**

Draco was familiar with Professor Burbage. In fact, he distinctly remembered being absolutely repulsed when he heard the other extra curricular classes had been filled and he still had an open slot. It wasn't his fault he was late to sign up. He blamed it on Harry who happened to 'bump into him' one day. This resulted in them having a bit of a spat in the middle of the courtyard, landing them both in detention in the middle of class sign ups. In spite of the subject matter, he knew skipping class of any kind was out of the question if he were to avoid any unwanted backlash from his parents.

He reluctantly sat through the lessons and eventually progressed to listening to every other word as opposed to strictly focusing on his doodles. He had gathered enough from the lectures to pass the class with a decent grade. Muggles led an...interesting life, as he would best describe it. Professor Burbage did have a unique way of making muggles and magical folk seem similar. Instead of prolonging a plain-spoken hatred towards muggles, he came to discover that he did not care about the differences all that much. They were just people who did things a little differently. While he certainly preferred his way of living, he thought it was rather unnecessary to hate people who didn't use magic for everything. He still couldn't see himself being friends with one.

Muggles had these odd inventions that included large buses that could fly, mechanisms that provided consistent light and something called 'chemistry'. He was pleasantly surprised to find that they also read books which had to mean they were somewhat intelligent...right?

If anything, it was nice to have accurate information to confirm most of the information he was originally told about muggles was _slightly_ exaggerated.

He immediately shoved those thoughts to the back of his mind, knowing occlumency would not save him from the Dark Lord if he was made aware of his indifference to their views. Closing his mind from another's view was something he was very experienced in, for he had implemented the ability successfully many times in just the last year. But he knew the Dark Lord could easily force his way in if provided the temptation.

He supposed that was a perk of basically being a creation of the dark arts.

"Severus, we're friends." she pleaded. His godfather's face remained cold and calculated as it usually did even as a colleague of his begged for mercy. To this day, Draco did not know how he did it. How he could successfully look two opposing sides in the eye and convince them both he was on their side all while lying to one.

The young wizard still didn't know which side he was on.

The killing curse left the Dark Lord's mouth like it was part of his everyday vocabulary. Draco jumped in his seat as his past professor's lifeless body fell to the table, a resounding thud echoing off the walls of their magnificent dining room.

"Nagini..." he cooed endearingly. How someone as menacing as the Dark Lord was capable of affection baffled him. The fact that it was towards a cold-blooded murderous creature unsettled him even more.

"... _dinner._ "

He watched apprehensively as the large snake appeared and slithered across the very same table where he used to have his favorite meals. Nagini's beady eyes flashed with intent as she eyed the corpse of his dead professor.

Draco wasn't sure if he would ever be hungry ever again.

* * *

**Luchino Caffe - August, 1997**

"So what are we gonna do with you, eh? You'd kill us if it were turned around, wouldn't you?" Ron spoke darkly as he glared at the petrified figure of Dolohov laying by his feet.

"If we kill them, they'd know we were here." Harry argued.

"Ron…" she was in disbelief. They were actually talking about killing people like it was nothing serious. Has the world gone mad? She paused.

It had, in fact.

"Suppose he did Mad-Eye. How would you feel then?" he retorted angrily.

Hermione shifted her eyes between Ron and Harry. She supposed they did have a point.

This was war, after all.

* * *

**12 Grimmauld Place - August, 1997**

Harry's scar was still burning. He had left the bathroom and retreated to the living room a while ago but the pain was lingering longer than usual. He could still see the image; _the great blond Death Eater on the floor, screaming and writhing, and a slighter figure standing over him, wand outstretched..._

_"More, Rowle, or shall we end it and feed you to Nagini? Lord Voldemort is not sure that he will forgive this time...You called me back for this, to tell me that Harry Potter has escaped again? Draco, give Rowle another taste of our displeasure...Do it, or feel my wrath yourself!"_

_A log fell in the fire: Flames reared, their light darting across a terrified, pointed white face —_

Harry's gut lurched for the third time that night as Malfoy's worn and horrified expression refused to leave his mind.

There was a sharp creak on the cushion beside him but Harry was still startled as Hermione's voice rang out.

"Harry, is everything alright?"

The images were suddenly jerked away from his sight, letting him see Hermione through his wary eyes. She seated herself next to him, watching him with her own concerned gaze. His mind told him 'yes' while his instinct said 'no'. 'Yes' because it was his problem and he did not want her to worry any more than she already did. 'No' because she was concerned and certainly had a right to know, especially as his friend.

He could hear the sound of teeth being brushed in the bathroom across the hall.

He sighed, "No...I need to tell you something."

Instinct won tonight.

* * *

**Flourish and Blotts Bookseller - August, 1997**

He killed someone for the first time tonight.

Bellatrix took Draco with her on an isolated raid to Diagon Alley in search for miscellaneous items and to 'wreak necessary havoc' as the Dark Lord-so-called it. It was almost as if the Dark Lord was testing the loyalties of all his followers as of late. Even Bellatrix had become more merciless if that were even possible. It was like they had to prove themselves all over again.

Thankfully, she seemed to have a soft spot for her dear nephew, lately. He supposed she felt they shared a deeper connection when she began his occlumency training last year. Luckily for him, he had always been an exceptional student, so naturally he worked hard to excel at the skill. She took great pride in her pupil, it seemed. He reckoned she was also proud of him for executing the torture curse so well for his first time the other night.

He neglected to tell her he pictured someone else at the end of his wand.

Halfway through the night, they managed to obtain most of the items they were instructed to acquire. Next on their list was the first edition of Hogwarts: A History from Flourish and Blotts.

Of course it was just his luck that the bookstore wasn't empty.

The girl was already gravely wounded and immobilized when they found her. Her straight, black hair covered her face, her limbs rested in odd angles, a pool of blood gathered beneath her. The cruciatus curse had been implemented multiple times. More than she could count. Her limbs roared in anguish and her insides felt like they were torn apart.

Death was imminent.

His silver eyes widened in horror when he spotted the book they were searching for; it happened to be placed on the shelf behind her. As if to seal her fate, Bellatrix cackled before she imperio-ed her, carelessly waving her wand in the air to throw the weakened girl against a nearby bookshelf.

The blond winced when her back hit the shelf with a shout before slumping to the floor. He couldn't take his focus off of her. She seemed familiar.

In his daze, he briefly heard the words 'grab the book' and 'have fun with the mudblood' before she stepped out. He assumed Bellatrix had gone on to loot the remaining necessary items as they had fallen behind schedule.

Ignoring the book for now, he walked over to the area where the girl had been thrown.

He grimaced when he realized he did know her, her face now visible after she was relocated. She was indeed a muggleborn. A year younger than him from Hufflepuff, he recalled. She was one of the few he and his fellow Slytherin friends taunted relentlessly. But this was beyond empty threats and meaningless pranks. She wasn't even the one who received the worst of his cruelty.

Not even close.

Now that he was closer, he could make out the bruises on her legs and rips in her skirt. He thought of the blood she sat in when they found her and the lack of significant cuts on her skin. Draco felt his stomach drop as the reality of his aunt's words hit him.

_Have fun with the mudblood..._

He graciously praised his decision to not eat anything today.

"Please, I—I just want this to end." she begged quietly. She could see the dissension in his eyes the second they stepped foot in the store.

She was suffering.

He knew what he had to do.

Kneeling in front of her, he reached out his hand to her face to hold her cold cheek in his slightly warmer palm. He wiped a tear away and swallowed his internal conflict. Compassion was something he hadn't let himself feel in a very long time. It was never an option.

That was why it shocked him to his core to suddenly feel such a thing. It was also why the words he desperately wanted to say would not come out.

"I—" his voice wavered.

_I'm sorry. For everything._

She inhaled sharply. Either from the pain or acknowledgement of what he was trying to say, he was not sure.

When she smiled, he knew it was the latter.

"I know. It's alright, Malfoy." She leaned into his touch.

He decided he could live with that and found himself able to speak once more. 

"Sleep well." he said, softly.

He remained firm. He continued to hold her head up as he reached for his wand with his right. Without another wasted second, he took aim as he muttered the spell he had dreaded to cast for so long.

The words came out perfectly as she fell limp in his hand.

* * *

**Forest of Dean - September, 1997**

Harry winced in pain as he raised himself from the ground. He rubbed a tender spot on his head before turning his attention to the desperate pleas a short distance away from him.

"Shhh, shh, it's okay. You'll be okay." Hermione tearfully cried as Ron screamed in pain. Her hands shook as she loosened his tie, struggling to provide instructions at Harry while she stripped his upper half to get to his arm.

Adrenaline coursed through her veins as she fought with his clothes. She could hear every other frantic word coming from Harry and responded to him in broken sentences. Harry did as he was instructed and continued to watch in amazement as Hermione worked to maintain her composure while fixing Ron's wound. She had a drive he could never understand. Her attention to detail and her resourcefulness and the way she acted quickly on her feet.

She never failed to astonish him. She always stepped in without a second thought to help or assist when needed and the outcome was more often than not better than expected. She also wore her heart on her sleeve and assumed the best in people. But that was just who she was. She was ambitious. She was brave. She was caring. She was _bloody_ brilliant.

She was Hermione Granger.

She was more than just the brightest witch of her age.

She was going to be the most accomplished witch of their generation.

* * *

**Malfoy Manor - March, 1998**

He remembered the times as a child when he would jump for joy at the chance of being chosen for something, basking in the glory of being recognized. Being needed. And now, he was in the middle of his own home, with his parents watching his every move, his childhood rivals either on their knees or incapacitated with all the attention was him. Everything he had dreamed for was right in front of him.

So why was he hesitating?

"I can't-I can't be sure." Harry furrowed his brow. Why did he seem conflicted?

 _What are you doing_? he wanted to ask.

Draco recognized him as soon as they brought him into his home. He only had further confirmation when the travelers who were captured alongside him were dragged in as well.

Why are you here?

Words became a blur as he struggled mentally with himself. Everyone was talking to him all at once. He didn't hear them. It was too loud. The only thing he could focus on was the mangled face of Harry bloody Potter in front of him. All he could think about was—

" _—what's wrong with his face?_ "

"Yes, what _is_ wrong with his face?" his aunt repeated. He hadn't realized he spoken aloud. He heard her footsteps as she walked away to Ron and Hermione. Draco continued to survey Harry's face critically. Confusion was still evident on the latter's expression. Draco was torn. Before he could contemplate any further, he felt a tap on his shoulder.

His mother.

He reluctantly got back on his feet, keeping his head down to decide what to do from here. He knew a while ago his loyalties were never truly to the Dark Lord and that they never have been. He knew that long before he took the mark. He wanted this war to be brought to an end. He wanted that madman to be stopped. He also knew for that to happen, Harry Potter had to make it out of his home — alive. Next thing he heard was Bellatrix's loud, shrieking voice. She was incandescent.

"Cissy, put the boys in the cellar. I want to have a conversation with this one... _girl to girl._ "

Draco's blood ran cold.

* * *

"I'm going to ask you again; where did you get this sword? _Where_?" Bellatrix hissed into her ear.

"We found it — we found it — PLEASE!" Hermione begged hysterically.

"You are lying, Mudblood! You have been inside my vault! Tell the truth, tell the truth!"

Hermione's screams vibrated through the halls of Malfoy Manor as she felt the blade cutting into her skin, her blood seeping through the freshly placed wounds.

In between screams, she thought she could hear Ron shouting her name from the cellar. Before she could dwell any further she heard the deranged witch shout, followed by excruciating pain.

It was as if her limbs were trying to separate themselves from her body...her nerves being tugged and tangled...her blood beginning to boil under her skin.

She had never felt such agony.

She wanted to be numb.

She wanted to be _dead_.

"No STOP! It's a copy, just a copy! Please!" she found herself shouting. Bellatrix paused her torment.

"A copy?" screeched Bellatrix. "Oh, a likely story!" A sadistic grin grew across her lips. "But we will find out." She looked to Wormtail. "Get the goblin. He can tell us if it is a copy or not." she commanded easily. He made haste to the cellar. Bellatrix huffed as she stood and walked off to further inspect the sword.

Hermione's tearful gaze shifted to where she had been using her arm as a sheet of parchment.

**-MUDBLOOD-**

Hermione looked up to the black clad figure out of the corner of her eye. He was standing on the other side of the room across from her.

Their eyes met.

He looked worse than he did that day in the bathroom, she thought. This time was dressed in that pristine black suit he was notorious for wearing on an average day. He must have had a new one tailored to fit his slim figure. Well...slimmer.

On the outside, he was the alluring picture of elegance and magnificence. With his walls down for the moment, she could finally see inside again.

Hermione concluded the torture session must have made her delirious. Otherwise she wouldn't have thought she saw regret in his gaze. Not to mention the message she managed to catch before he shut her out again;

Why did it have to be you?

* * *

Heavy breaths were expelled as the frantic spell casting grew to an immediate halt.

One pair with their wands up, the other tossing theirs to the floor in surrender. Next thing he knew, those wands were in his pale hands and everyone was focusing their attention on him again.

" _Call him_." Draco heard her sinister voice say. He grew pale as his aunt looked at him expectantly. He had never had to use his mark to summon Voldemort before. Thankfully, everyone else took his apparent unease to be due to inexperience rather than reluctance.

Lucius recognized the discomfort he displayed and stood in front of him to take his place, holding his arm outward.

As the elder Malfoy rolled up his sleeve, the younger one's eyes shifted to the curly haired witch in his aunt's clutch. He swallowed the lump in his throat as he eyed the blade at her own. The tension was written clearly on the majority of the room's occupants. Even his mother seemed apprehensive.

He needed to do something.

He needed a miracle.

The pale blond did notice that while her eyes were fixed at the ceiling above, she looked...hopeful?

Then he heard it. The sound of metal squeaking softly. From above. He let his gaze tear away from her face to the sizable, luxurious light fixture hovering above them.

He wanted to cry in relief when he saw Dobby, their wonderfully loyal house-elf who left them years ago, straddled about the base of the chandelier. The more he turned the mount, the louder the squeaking became. While everyone else's gaze turned upwards to locate the source, his came back down alongside hers so that determined grey eyes met pleading, brown ones. He hoped the message was clear.

 _Get ready to_ **run**.

The chandelier fell.

Glass and crystal dispersed to every corner of the room.

Blurs occurred as people scattered away from the epicenter.

Screams of outrage and pain intermingled.

Brown eyes searched for red hair, collapsing in his arms.

Frantic hands lunged at the blond as they reached for the wands in his blood drenched hands.

Chaos had ensued.

Angry curses were shouted.

A stunning spell was cast. _Twice_.

A sharp crack was heard.

They disapparated.

Draco ignored the shard of glass embedded in his cheek and the blood staining his favorite suit.

He was relieved — they escaped.

There was still a chance.

* * *

**Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry - May, 1998**

The protective shields were put up. The giant army was called upon. But it was no use.

The shields had been breached.

The death eaters were taking over.

Walls were broken down.

Blood was spilled.

A place once full of youth, promise and security was crumbling to the ground.

* * *

All it took was a conversation about house-elves.

They were plotting the next method of attack as they stood in the middle of a war zone. Their next stop was the room of requirement to find the lost diadem before Ron remembered about the house elves.

"Hang on a moment!" said Ron sharply. "We've forgotten something."

"What? What is it now?" Hermione asked frantically.

"The house-elves! They'll all be down in the kitchen! We need to tell them to get out! We don't want any more Dobbies, do we? We can't order them to die for us —"

Hermione couldn't believe what she was hearing. It was a genius idea. Before she knew what she was doing, she dropped basilisk fangs and ran to Ron before she flung herself on him to kiss him harshly. Ron dropped the items in his hands in response and wrapped his own arms around her, kissing her back with the same intensity.

"Is this really the time?" Harry asked incredulously.

Honestly, house-elves.

All it took was a conversation about house-elves.

* * *

He had hoped after fixing the vanishing cabinet that he would never have to be in this room again. Unfortunately, the Dark Lord had given him a new task. He took this as an opportunity to seek out Harry, never once crossing his mind to actually turn him in to Voldemort. He honestly just wanted space from him breathing down his neck. Coincidentally, Crabbe and Goyle were assigned to assist him in the case that Harry had backup. That was a fair assumption considering he had heard from Granger herself that she would love nothing more than to hex him.

_Such a fiery little Gryffindor._

Unbeknownst to him, a slight smirk had appeared on his face. As soon as it appeared, it vanished. He hoped his accomplices hadn't noticed. Neither Crabbe nor Goyle were aware of his treasonous change of heart. That mildly complicated things but it didn't matter. After he found Snape to be dead by the fangs of Nagini, he was going to stand up for himself for once. 

He was going to be the double crosser. 

He was going to do his part in ending this war the right way.

He just had to wait for the right moment.

They explored the cluttered room, wandering around aimlessly until they found the person they had been searching for.

_On with the show…_

"Well, well..." he heard himself say. "—what brings you here, Potter?"

* * *

Hermione let out a lighthearted laugh as Ron chased down the three intruders through the maze of lost items.

His _girlfriend_. That did have a nice ring to it.

* * *

"We can't leave them." Harry yelled. Hermione nodded agreeably.

"He's joking, right?" she heard Ron yell from behind her.

Hermione rolled her eyes as they made a U-turn at the next stack of clutter, making a bee-line for the two wizards currently holding onto a shelf with their lives.

"—there's a reason I can hear them. The horcruxes."

"I'll go with you." she cried.

"No, kill the snake. Kill the snake and then it's just him." Harry hugged Hermione tightly. He looked over her shoulder to Ron.

_Take care of her._

_Keep her safe._

_Put her back together when I'm gone_.

* * *

The Chosen One was dead.

Harry Potter was dead.

He was too late.

" _Draco_." His father's voice hissed across the courtyard.

His heart dropped when he felt the crowds of eyes falling on him. He tried to ignore the first pair of eyes to place him. He blamed it on his distinguishable hair colour — despite it being muddled in dirt and debris. Swallowing his pride, he made his choice. Deciding if the good wasn't going to win this war, he was going to at least die being loyal to his family.

He was a Malfoy, after all.

He walked sheepishly towards his parents, Voldemort pulling him into an awkward hold. It was like he hadn't given anyone a hug before.

" _Well done, Draco_." The Dark Lord's tone was taunting as if to prove a point. To show he could have anyone he wanted with the power he held. To show that he was unstoppable now.

I'm not doing it for you, he thought as he continued to his parents. He walked past his father and immediately went for the person standing next to him.

He let his mother's arms wrap around his shoulders, a version of sorrow on her face. If he didn't know earlier he was on the wrong side, he was sure of it now. Although, something didn't sit right with him.

His mother.

She had seemed...off. She was sad, or seemed that way initially. There was a confidence he recognized in her. Like she knew something. Then he realized; she wasn't happy when Voldemort declared victory.

She was determined.

" _Mother_ —" he whispered as he narrowed his eyes at her. " _What did you_ —"

Befuddlement grew as the crowd clamored. He turned his head to the middle of the courtyard where attention was centered, catching the signature smirk on his mother's face along the way.

He was alive.

Harry Potter was alive.

* * *

**Ministry of Magic - May, 1998**

The war was over. Lord Voldemort was killed and his surviving followers either turned themselves in, disappeared or killed themselves in holding.

Harry and Hermione stood in front of Courtroom Ten, awaiting their turn.

"He saved us that night, Harry."

"I know he did. His mother saved me, too. When she declared me to be dead. And I still don't know why."

"You know what we have to do."

"Yeah, I believe I do."

* * *

"Good luck in there, 'Mione."

She smiled sweetly. "Thank you. I'll see you after the trial." Hermione leaned forward to press a chaste kiss on the lips before turning and proceeding towards the doors to Courtroom Ten. His eyes moved to the enchanted sign above the doors;

_D. Malfoy_

Ron sighed. He knew it was the right thing for them to do. But he couldn't shake off the growing heaviness in his chest the further she walked away from him.

* * *

"We hereby find the defendant, Lucius Abraxas Malfoy, guilty of all charges—"

The Minister's lips were still moving but everything was silent. Draco had stopped listening, slid his eyes shut and let out the breath he was holding.

He heard enough.

* * *

**12 Grimmauld Place - June, 1998**

"I'm alright Ronald, really." She shivered. She thought it was from nerves. Or the lack of clothing.

"Are you sure you're ready for this?" he asked, uncertain.

"Yes. Yes, I'm properly sure."

She exhaled shakily as he lowered her delicate figure on the bed sheets.

* * *

**Malfoy Manor - June, 1998**

Narcissa Malfoy stood in her kitchen, magically heating the kettle of water while fetching two mugs from the cabinet above. "Your father is going to Azkaban for a long time."

"I know." His voice lacked any emotion. His focus remained on the large cake in front of him, along with the unopened letter stamped from the prison.

She turned her face half way until he appeared in her peripheral line of sight. "Your Auntie Bella did not escape. She was killed during the battle." There was no remorse in her tone. The silence lingered between them. Enough time had passed for her to be certain he wasn't going to respond. Then he spoke.

"Good." he could've sworn he saw a smile appear on his mother's face before she turned back to tend to their tea.

* * *

**12 Grimmauld Place - July, 1998**

Ron was pacing in his bedroom as Hermione read her newly received letter from Professor McGonagall for the fifth time.

"Are you sure about this 'Mione? I could support you, you know. With my job, I could provide for you. We could be together while you find a job." he didn't see what the problem was. In his eyes, it was the perfect opportunity for them to move on from the war. They could start living their lives, finally have peace, maybe even start a family one day. There was only one problem...

"Ronald, we never completed our seventh year. You of all people should know that I want to finish school properly. I'm glad you and Harry decided to move on in becoming aurors but I want more than that. I want more than being known for the 'brains of the Golden Trio'. I want to do something for myself...on my own." she spoke firmly.

Ron let her words sink in. She could tell he was internally debating with himself on his next statement. "Am I good enough for you, Hermione?"

Her jaw hit the floor.

She knew things had been tense ever since that night but she didn't think it would get to this point so quickly.

"Don't be daft, Ronald—"

"Don't 'Ronald' me, answer the question." He quipped.

Her breath hitched, "Please..."

"I love you, Hermione. I do—" he started.

"Ron, no—"

"But we were in the middle of a war and didn't have the chance to really think it through."

"Don't do this—" she was crying.

"We both know you want more than what I can give you." So was he.

"We should talk about this. I can wait on school—"

"No, 'Mione. You know you need to go. I want you to be happy. I do." He was crestfallen. "—but I need to be happy, too."

* * *

**Malfoy Manor - July, 1998**

"Darling, are you sure you want to go back? You were already pardoned by the ministry to begin working with them. Mister Potter and Miss Granger's testaments were more than enough to prove your innocence. You could start your life anew."

"I need to go back. I need to finish what I started before I can move on."

She watched him carefully.

Unbeknownst to her, he had received a similar letter weeks ago but never responded. This was the second one; the one saying he needed to respond soon or he would have to forfeit his spot in the upcoming year.

For the first time, it was him making the decision for himself. He sighed, "It's what I want."

Her gaze lingered on him, "If you're sure, darling." She spoke slowly. As if she were testing him. He appeared to be at peace with himself for the first time in years.

He looked up to meet her gaze and spoke with conviction.

"I'm sure, mother."


	4. The Eighth Years

Ch.3: The Eighth Years

**September 1, 1998**

It was a dreary day at Kings Cross.

Granted, it was quite appropriate for this would be the first year Hermione will have arrived since meeting her friends and they would not be joining her.

She usually enjoyed the train ride to Hogwarts. As a child, she envisioned it as a journey to a new place. Except, this place just happened to be her home away from home and she was departing for it for the very last time as a student. Her friends were dropping off and not coming along for the ride. It was very bittersweet and she felt like she should be sadder than she was. But she wasn't. When the letter from McGonagall showed up at her doorstep, she was elated. She had to reread the letter several times to make sure it wasn't a joke or some shrouded underlying threat. The letter was more than a chance for her to finish her education. It was a chance for her to safely go to school without a war lingering or some unknown threat out to get her best friend. She could finally be just like any other student attending school.

Needless to say, for reasons beyond academia, she was looking forward to the school year

The trio, along with Ginny, stood on the platform. The girls waited to board the train, unwilling to part ways too quickly. Hermione turned her attention to the clock.

10:54 AM.

"You're sure we can't change your mind, 'Mione?" she heard Ron ask.

She turned her head back to see him with a slight pout while staring at the floor. She felt her heart strings tug. Granted, this was the third time he asked on their way here although she had to admit, she missed this side of him. In this particular moment, he was her friend who was comfortable with her and not the timid, questionable boyfriend stepping on eggshells around her every second.

"Come on, Ron. You know there's no changing her mind. I'm happy for you, Hermione." Harry stated, pulling her into a warm embrace.

"Thank you." she kept her eye on Ron over his shoulder as Ginny hugged him goodbye.

"You and Ginny, look out for each other, alright? We'll miss you." he mumbled into her hair.

She gripped him tighter. "We will. I'll miss you, too."

Harry and Ginny walked off momentarily to bid their own farewells in private, leaving Ron and Hermione to themselves in the middle of the crowded station.

They watched each other with a keen eye. Over the past month, they developed a habit in which every movement was calculated carefully. The pair constantly made sure Harry was in the room with one of them and they were never alone. Hermione hated the tension that erupted. It was like they fell out of sync and could not anticipate each other's next move anymore. It was maddening.

There was so much left unsaid between them and she wanted to protest. As usual, she wanted to fight for them. She didn't want to leave things in such disarray. In the end, she knew he was right. Something more than mere jitters occurred since they took that final step in their relationship. Something had shifted more than just their physical intimacy, something that shouldn't have been tampered with. The unease remained and only strengthened as time progressed.

"I hope—"

"I'll—"

They stared at each other before sharing an awkward laugh.

Seriously, when would it stop being so weird? And tense? she thought. She gestured for him to speak first.

"I hope you have a great time, 'Mione. You deserve to have a year to focus on your studies. And—" he bit his lip, hoping he wouldn't regret his next words. "—and I hope you find what you're looking for." Hermione felt her heart break even further. They had told themselves they would talk about it when she came back but the way he phrased it seemed so...final.

She was lucky enough to have such a loyal best friend who also happened to be a genuine guy who was willing to give up his own happiness for her. She wanted to curse herself at the fact that she couldn't have made it easier for them and gone on with his plan from the beginning. Everything would have been significantly easier and their lives would be made.

But she wouldn't have been happy. And as he made explicitly clear for her when they last talked about it; as a consequence, neither would he.

"Thank you. Good luck with auror training. From what I hear, it will be intense."

"Yeah, to be honest, I'm not looking forward to it too much. I think I'd rather suffer through one of Snape's lectures again."

She let out a chuckle. "You don't have to lie to yourself."

"You're right. Could be worse, I suppose." he shrugged, smiling back at her for the first time in weeks. "You should get going. Don't want to miss your train. It's a bugger to catch up to." he admitted, speaking from personal experience.

He stood still as she confidently walked up to press a light kiss on his cheek.

"I'll miss you. Take care of yourself," she exhaled.

He nodded reassuringly. "You too."

The Hogwarts Express had left the station five minutes ago and Hermione was already struggling to find an empty compartment to settle in. She had made it through the section that was normally meant for Gryffindor students, come to find it was filled with mostly Hufflepuff. When she made it to the section for Hufflepuff, come to find it filled with a mix of students catering red, blue and even green attire. It was strange to see the older students of varying houses intermingling with one another, especially members of Slytherin house. While it was unexpected, she found herself mildly enjoying it.

Given that she hadn't spotted Ginny yet, she assumed she was on another section of the train looking for her as well. She decided to remain in one place on the occasion she was coming from the other direction. Two carts later, she finally found an empty compartment to settle in.

As she was sitting and sorting through her books in her charmed bag, a knock came from the door to the compartment. Hermione had just grabbed the book she was looking for when the door opened and a young brunette with a Slytherin tie stuck her head in.

"Excuse me? Have you by chance seen—?" she cut herself off, eyes widening as recognition dawned on her face. "Blimey. Hermione Granger?"

Hermione shifted uncomfortably. "Yes?"

"You're going back to Hogwarts? I thought you were going to work for the Ministry with your friends?"

"No. Harry and Ron did and I was offered to do so but I wanted to do something different for myself. McGonagall offered me the chance to come back and finish my final year so—" she gestured to herself, "—here I am."

She couldn't help but feel judged by this girl's inquiry. Perhaps it had to do with the fact that she was Slytherin and that was all she was used to experiencing from them.

Hermione was caught off guard when the brunette gave her a toothy grin. "That is fantastic. Merlin knows someone needs to show the boys how to sort their priorities, right." she responded while winking at her.

To say Hermione was surprised was an understatement.

Her brows were raised and curved. Before she could respond, another girl from Slytherin came up to whisper in the mystery brunette's ear. While she was occupied, Hermione tried to back track in her head if she could remember who this student was. She couldn't say she knew the entirety of Slytherin House. Not even close. Although she was sure she had seen her in passing before.

"There you are! I've been looking everywhere for you!"

She looked up to see Ginny standing behind the mystery girl with an expression of relief. She passed the mystery girl at the door, who then nodded to the other girl before she walked off. Mystery girl turned her attention back to Hermione.

"So sorry for bothering you. It would appear the person I was trying to find was hiding in plain sight. It was nice talking to you." she went to walk away.

Disregarding the confusion on Ginny's face, Hermione blurted out her next words before her brain could stop her.

"Wait! I feel awful about this but I'm afraid I never got your name."

Mystery girl looked back and smiled.

"Astoria. Astoria Greengrass. I'll see you around, Granger."

Hermione dwindled on that name. She knew that name; the last name, at least. She gave herself a moment to ponder on it, letting the rain battering against the windows of the train take her mind elsewhere while Ginny seated herself and her items on the seat across from her.

"What was that about?" she heard Ginny ask, extracting her from her thoughts.

"She was looking for someone. Did you get lost?"

"It took a while because not only were most of the sections full, but they are all out of sorts! Have you got a spare jumper, by chance? Mine are all packed away in my case."

"Sure. What colour? I have a lavender, navy, light grey and a black."

Ginny's jaw dropped slightly, "Oh! Erm, lavender is fine?"

Hermione reached into her charmed bag and shuffled for a second before pulling out a lavender cardigan and tossing it to Ginny.

"Bloody hell, that is incredible. You've spoiled the boys, no doubt." she exclaimed as she put on the cardigan.

Hermione let out a chuckle as she opened her book to the marked page, "Maybe so."

"I wonder how they'll get on without you."

"I'm sure they'll be fine. They're grown men now."

Ginny scoffed, "Hardly. Without Hermione Granger to drag them through the mud? They're back to being boys, dooming themselves every chance they get."

She supposed she had paid her contributions to their group in the past. On numerous occasions, she had saved them from a series of dangerous journeys and deadly endeavors. Now with the thought freshly placed in her mind, a look of horror overtook her features.

"Hey, I'm only teasing," Ginny reassured. "They'll get on fine, with or without you. They're going to have to learn what it's like to not have you around all the time. Besides, view it as a positive for yourself. It'll be refreshing, a year without the boys. You won't have to spend all your time being their babysitter. You're a free woman!"

She considered the redhead's words. It was all accurate and Hermione had never thought of it that way. She was not only free of any underlying threat out to kill her kind but she was fortuitously granted the freedom from having to stress over the reckless shenanigans Harry and Ron had often put themselves in. This was a year she could focus on herself and her studies and her future afterwards.

She felt the beginnings of a smile creeping on her face.

The rain decided to stop by the time the train stopped next.

Hermione had made it to the dormitories to find her items already unpacked for her. She dropped off her remaining items before proceeding to the Headmaster's Office. After she got off the train, she was warmly welcomed by Hagrid who had informed her the new Headmaster wished to speak with her in the Headmaster's Office prior to the banquet in the Great Hall.

Muttering the provided password, the Gargoyle began its motion upwards and she was suddenly standing in the middle of what used to be Snape's office. And before that, Dumbledore's. Hermione found herself appreciating the slight adjustments in the large, circular room. Gone were the random little noises from the silver trinkets. The only thing filling the silence of the room was the chatter of the portraits. The walls were still covered with portraits of the old headmasters and headmistresses who were chatting among each other within their frames. The enormous, claw-footed desk was replaced with a slightly smaller and modest wooden desk. The shelf behind it contained different books and displayed the same tainted wizard's hat; the Sorting Hat. He appeared to be in a deep slumber. Likely in preparation for the banquet in a few moments.

Glancing at the clock, Hermione realized the Welcoming Feast was sooner than she anticipated and the Headmaster, or  _ Headmistress, _ was nowhere to be found.

"Professor McGonagall?" She called out. Then she heard the shift of the statue behind her.

"My sincerest apologies, Miss Granger," she walked past the curly haired brunette briskly to set several scrolls of parchment on her desk. "I know it's not commonplace for me to be late but there were other matters I needed to attend to before our meeting."

"No worries at all. Could I provide assistance?" it was baffling for Hermione to see the previous head of her house to be in such a state of dishevelment.

The Headmistress adjusted her slightly crooked glasses. "Not to worry, dear. I will address these issues tomorrow. We need to get through the feast and sort the new students first and foremost. Followed by setting some ground rules at this school. I will not have a repeat of previous years." She took a brief moment to sort the scrolls of parchment appropriately before addressing Hermione formally. She sat in the large chair, resting her elbows on the desk and provided her student with a small smile.

"Thank you for coming to see me. I wanted to see how you were fairing once the trials ended. It was to my knowledge you had taken part in several of those who were accused."

"I'm doing fine. I'm thankful to have done my part and saw the guilty be sentenced and the innocent were spared. It was the least I could do." her smile was genuine. "I also wanted to thank you for the letter, Professor McGonagall. I can't tell you what it means to come back and have the chance to finish my education appropriately."

"Fret not, my dear. It was an easy decision. And speaking of, I also hope you respect my decision of not asking you to be Head Girl this year. I know you missed your chance last year but it would only be unfair for the current seventh year at the top of their class."

"I understand completely, Professor. I don't think I want the special treatment, either way. I am simply here to complete my education and be just like any other person. An average student, if you will."

"You were never just an average student, Miss Granger. In fact, most might even call you the best. Even if the term others used was a little more...crude." she smiled knowingly.

Hermione responded wryly, "Thank you, Professor."

She nodded before her expression grew serious. "I need your help, Miss Granger. I'm afraid I must admit the request of your return will indeed require more of you. While those who contributed to the war were rightfully prosecuted and dealt with, I'm afraid the damage was more significant than merely penetrating our walls. The spirits of the students have...changed. You may have noticed on your journey here students from differing houses were intermingling. This was encouraged by myself and the faculty, more so as a method of integrating all the houses. As you know, the houses were initially a way to provide young witches and wizards an easy method to make connections, to group them in making learning magic more efficient depending on their respective qualities. However, over the years those ideals have been severely corrupted and rivalries between them have surpassed the ones that lay with competitive sporting."

"But Professor, the houses as a whole got on fairly well. I would say my closest friends aside for the ones from my own house are from Ravenclaw and Hufflepuff."

"And from Slytherin?"

Hermione remained silent and McGonagall nodded knowingly.

"—though I'm sure you could name a few  _ enemies _ from them, couldn't you?"

"Several."

"Gryffindor and Slytherin houses have always had a complicated history. The war only worsened those conditions, I'm afraid."

"But everyone seemed to get on for the most part on the way here, Slytherin students included."

"Make no mistake, Miss Granger. From the outside, most appear to get along swimmingly. Though I know a good few whose families suffered a great deal by the hands of some of our very own Slytherin students and their elders. Some may not take kindly to sharing a class or a corridor with each other and may seek retaliation by drastic measure. Given what you just told me about the trials and what you are capable of, I feel it is safe to trust your judgement and would like you to keep a close eye if you are able. Many are still suffering as an aftereffect of the war and I want no accidents."

"I understand, Professor. I'll do my best." Her professor stood before walking towards the entrance to the office.

"I know you will. I expect you will be making the most of your return. You should hurry along now. You wouldn't want to be late for the opening feast." she gestured to the statue.

"Certainly not. It really is good to be back." She walked up to the headmistress, holding her hand out for her to shake. She was shocked when the elder pulled her into a warm hug instead which she gracefully returned.

"Welcome home, Hermione."

She briskly made her way to the Great Hall where she found most of the students had gathered. It was surprising to see how full it had become. At least the seating wasn't out of sorts and Hermione easily spotted the Gryffindor table. Within seconds, she spotted the seat Ginny saved her and made her way over.

"Where have you been? The first years have already been sorted." Ginny asked as Hermione sat down.

"Professor McGonagall wanted to chat with me."

"I'm assuming it wasn't for you being in trouble this time."

"No, no. Nothing like that. She just—" she was cut off when McGonagall briskly walked through the doors towards the podium. She looked far more put together compared to when Hermione saw her moments prior.

" _ I'll tell you later _ ," Hermione whispered to Ginny as McGonagall prepared to speak.

"Good evening. I'd like to provide a warm welcome to our new first years joining us this year. As for those who return to us, welcome back. I look forward to being your headmistress this year and would like to take a moment to mention those who preceded me; Professor Albus Dumbledore and Professor Severus Snape. These brave wizards spent the majority of their lives putting forth the utmost effort and passion to see their students succeed. They, like most who fell last year, were students like yourself at one point and I know each and every one of you will do your best to make them proud."

An ominous aura covered the Great Hall like a veil. Even the first years who were too young to really understand grasped the severity of her words.

"I would also like to welcome some special guests of ours. As you know, there were necessary plots that took place before the war occurred and as a result, there were students who were unable to partake in their last year at Hogwarts. Therefore, I have taken the liberty of sending letters to a select few students who were invited to return and complete their seventh year. I expect you to treat them like any other student and no differently. We are all victims of the war and should not be judged for how things were before–"

Hermione scrunched her face up in confusion.  _ There were others? _ She took a quick glance around the room without seeming conspicuous. She spotted a few Ravenclaw and Hufflepuff students from her year. She wasn't even going to bother checking the Slytherin table until she saw it was the most crowded table. It all made sense why McGonagall had spoken with her. Some of the students she asked to come back participated on the other side of the war; alongside the Dark Lord as a loyal follower. She scanned through the cluster of faces and found Zabini and Nott at the end of the table.

She didn't have time to acknowledge the gap between the two before she turned her attention back to their new headmaster as she continued her speech.

"—this is a new era now and being that is the case, there will be some changes to Hogwarts starting this year—"

"It's strange, isn't it?" Ginny inquired.

"What is?"

"Seeing all the houses being so...open with each other."

"You mean seeing all the houses AND Slytherin doing more than coexisting."

"Well, yes. It's just...weird."

"We've seen weirder things."

"Have we?" she asked, almost mockingly.

Hermione pretended to ponder. "No, now that I think about it, you're right. It is the weirdest thing I've seen yet."


	5. The Expectations

Ch.4: The Expectations

**September 1, 1998**

Shortly after parting ways with Hermione and Ginny at Kings Cross, the other two thirds of the Golden Trio found themselves in the midst of one of the largest and most significant places in the wizarding world. Two sets of timid eyes took in the sight before them.

The Ministry of Magic was infamous for having the highest traffic of wizards at any given time or day and today was no exception. Harry and Ron were only minuscule dots among the hoards of wizards, witches, half-goblins and other magical creatures as they bustled along their own respective routes. Most heads were kept straightforward or on the floor, making it apparent most everyone had memorized their paths to the point where they didn't feel the need to look up. Sure, both wizards had been here previously by other reasons or means. But this was an entirely different scenario. They weren't underage wizards anymore where if they did something wrong, detention or extra homework were the forms of punishment.

Despite the fact that they had fought a dark wizard and his entire slew of followers, Harry found nothing was more terrifying than vulnerable to the unpredictable forces of the real world. Before, he could at least anticipate Voldemort's next move and knew of his intentions. Now, without the direct support of his professors and guardians, anything was possible. Anything was fair game.

Harry's nerves got the best of him and his voice wavered as a result. "Ron?"

"Yes?" Ron sounded equally tense.

"Is it wrong of me to say this place is terrifying even when we're not on the wanted list?"

"No..." His response was delayed as the reality of it all sank in. "—no, I think we're in agreement there, mate."

Harry took deep breaths to calm himself. The last time he remembered being this anxious for something was the day he received his letter from Hogwarts. The day that changed his life forever. "We should get going."

Ron nodded hesitantly as he did his best to follow suit. They could have easily lost each other in the midst of the crowd if they hadn't walked the same route before. The pair found themselves standing at the entrance to the current available elevator which was mostly filled with witches and wizards most of a generation older. Inconsistent expressions involving half-lidded eyes and elevated chins watched the two as they contemplated their next move. Harry gave a stiff head nod as they proceeded to shuffle in, placing themselves directly in the middle of the crowd. Once they were settled, an older half-goblin standing next to Ron tugged on his trouser leg.

"What floor, sir?" Wrinkly eyes looked up to the redhead expectantly.

Ron's eyes widened. "Uhhh I'm not sure actually." he looked over to Harry for assistance.

Harry in turn panicked and referred to the middle aged woman standing to his other side. "Excuse me, what floor is the Auror's office located?"

The lady gave him a once over before responding. "Level 2." The goblin nodded and allowed the gate to slide shut while the witch kept him and the adjacent red head under her scrutiny. "Are you in a sort of trouble?"

"No, ma'am. We're here for auror training." he explained.

He gulped when her glare tightened. "You seem a little young to be an auror, don't you think? A bit bright-eyed as well, if I might add."

He was caught off guard at her abruptness and disguised it with a shrug. "I'm just happy to be here." he desperately wanted to end this conversation.

"And you think you have what it takes?" Harry felt pricks along his spine when she spoke in an accusatory tone. It felt as if she were interrogating him for committing a crime and he did not appreciate the tone.

"I do, actually. I'm Harry Potter, by the way. Perhaps you've heard of me." he quipped.

From the very beginning, it had been a blessing as much as it had been a curse. Since his exposure to the wizarding world, his name was known throughout by all, by witches and wizards of all ages. They knew him to be the 'chosen one' and lay claim to him to be 'destined for greatness'.

The elevator lurched into motion, along with his gut. He desperately tried to shove away the growing discomfort when no one batted an eye at his admission. He was partially grateful at the overall disinterest among the audience. As if this were an every day occurrence. Nevertheless, he knew he was walking on egg shells with this random woman who hadn't provided her identity yet. For all he knew, she was a highly ranked official. Yet, she was being unnecessarily rude and for that reason, he stood his ground. Thankfully, they didn't have to stay long since he was meant to step off the next time the elevator stopped.

She simply raised a brow. "I am well aware of who you are, Mister Potter. Given that you're new here, I shall be courteous and do you the favor of informing you your reputation alone will not get you anywhere in this office. Every member of the Ministry has worked diligently to get to where they are and you will work through the ranks like anyone else." her tone was substantial and although Harry had a good half head above her, he felt only slightly smaller when she stared him down.

"I didn't expect anything less." he held her gaze as the door dinged open, neither flinching as it did so.

She only broke her icy stare to step off the elevator and onto the same floor he was getting off, much to Harry's dismay.

"This is the Auror's Office–" the goblin gestured him with a kind, wrinkly smile. "—if you lads are here for training, you'll need to head straight down the hall past the double doors until the last door on the right. Good luck to the both of you."

"Thank you, sir." Harry said graciously before he and Ron walked off the elevator and alongside one another down the long hallway.

The former winced as he recollected the events that had just conspired. "I hope that woman isn't someone I have to see too often."

"I think she likes you. Wouldn't sweat on it too much." Ron shrugged nonchalantly.

Harry forced out a laugh, "You're joking."

"Of course I'm joking. Obviously she thinks you're a menace and doesn't want you here."

"Thanks, Ron."

"Anytime, mate."

They walked through the double doors to the last door on the right. Ron turned the rusty doorknob which gave way to a small classroom. Furniture consisted of five rickety desks for students and a larger wooden on at the front of the room. The walls were bleak and coated with a hideous color that couldn't decide if it wanted to be green, yellow or brown. The decor lining the walls consisted of cobwebs and a few old portraits with cracked frames. The chalkboard remained blank and seemed to have gotten a fair amount of use since it was put up centuries ago. Bright colors were sparse and was only provided by the small stack of fairly new books on the wooden desk, standing out from the entirety of the space around them.

"Blimey. When was the last time someone cleaned this place?" Ron wondered as he lightly touched a portrait covered in dust, recoiling back when the frame made a resounding _crack_ and fell off the wall.

"Ron—" Harry began.

"I know, I know. I'm on it." he crinkled his eyes as he reached for his wand in his pocket. " _Reparo."_

The broken frame repaired itself and righted its position on the wall.

The pair heard heels clicking down the hall and ran to seat themselves at the provided desks, hoping they had enough structural integrity to maintain their weight. Seconds later, the same woman from the elevator appeared. With a slight edge in her motions, she slammed the door shut behind her and walked to the front of the classroom with a stack of parchment and books in hand. Their eyes followed her as she set down the items and briefly organized the mess on top of the desk. Once she set apart two packets of parchment, she turned her attention back to the other occupants of the room while placing her hands on her hips.

The stiffness of her voice did not change from when she spoke to Harry earlier. "Good morning. I am Auror Gladys Sparrow and I will be administering your placement exam. This will determine how far along you are and where you will start with training–" A knock on the door from the other side caught her attention.

" _What now_?" she muttered under her breath. "You two—" she pointed her fingers between the alerted wizards. "—don't move." she pursed her lips before proceeding to the entryway.

"Another exam?" He whispered over to Harry when Auror Sparrow closed the door behind her. "—we may as well have gone back to school with Hermione."

"Come on, how hard could it be? We've passed the entrance exams, didn't we?" Harry responded with a hint of doubt in his voice.

He saw Ron nod hesitantly before he glanced back at the small stack of parchment on the large desk in front of him. Their heads jerked back to the door when the auror walked back in. She appeared more tense than when she first walked in if that were even possible. Standing behind the desk, she wanded the door shut and distributed an individual bundle of parchment to each trainee.

Once the parchment was placed on their desks, she leaned against the large one at the front, crossing her arms across her chest. "You are expected to answer each question to the best of your ability and are given one hour. You may begin."

Harry avoided her glare and hesitantly looked back down at the parchment in front of him. With shaky fingers, he flipped to the first page.

Q1) Describe the process of conducting a patronus charm.

Harry let out a breath he didn't know he was holding and grinned. _Easy._

Q2) List the ingredients for polyjuice potion

 _Also easy_.

Then he got to the later portion of the exam where the questions covered a series of topics they never covered at Hogwarts.

Q11) Explain why a Fairy Elixir can be used to restart a heart.

He recalled being told Fairy Elixirs were illicit and thus there was no need to learn of them.

Q12) What is the significance of Sana Vulnere?

 _Sana what_?

Harry blinked as his mind blanked.

How in blazes was he supposed to answer these?

Harry glanced up at the clock and hurriedly scribbled answers as his heart race with the beat of the second hand. The female auror's presence and glare through his head did not do him any favors. Once he wrote down the last few words, the parchment magically slammed shut.

 _"_ The hour is up. Quills down."

She collected the parchment from their desks and held them in a firm grasp. "Your exams will be graded in just a moment. Remain here while I find the Head Auror. He will want a word with you two." With that, she turned on her heel and stepped out of the room for a third time.

"Did you have any trouble with the exam?" Ron inquired in the same hushed tone from earlier.

Harry thought before he responded. "No, not at all. You?"

"Easiest exam I've taken yet."

Moments passed before laughter expressing their mutual struggles broke through the silence of the room. The grins faded when they heard a loud discussion coming from the other side of the door. Cautiously, they walked up to the door and pressed their ears against the wood. It was Auror Sparrow. And an unfamiliar man.

 _"_ — _why do I even bother? No one is listening to me. We cannot continue to treat him as if he's better than everyone else."_

_"He has been through much, Gladys. Unfortunately for you, that fact alone means he isn't like everyone else. Even you have to accept that."_

_"We do not have exceptions here. We have a protocol. Certain rules that must be followed. A structure that I have maintained for the past thirty years."_

_"And you have done so brilliantly. However, things are different now. We have to take advantage of the situation while it is in our favor. He held a significant part in the war, as did his companion. We could use them."_

_"I don't like this, Gawain. "_

Ron gasped and whispered, "That's the Head Auror. Gawain Robards."

They could hear the exhaustion in his tone. _"Neither do I but my hands are tied, Gladys. The war may be over but the consequences of it are still in effect. And while we're still picking up the pieces, there are members of our staff out there who are still recuperating. We need all the help we can get. I know you want answers and they could be the key to getting them."_

They could practically feel her defeated sigh as if she were in the room, " _Very wel_ _l. I suppose you could do worse. He did fairly well on my exam."_

Harry and Ron glanced at each other in shock.

_"That's fantastic. And what of Weasley?"_

_"He demonstrates...enthusiasm. Let's just say he still could use some work but does show promise."_

Harry stifled a laugh when Ron scrunched his face.

" _Enthusiasm?"_ the red head mouthed.

" _I can work with that. Do you require any assistance before_ _I take over?"_

 _"No, no. You have done more than enough, truly. I think it best you attend to them now. I'm sure they are curious after eavesdropping on our conversation_ — _"_

Harry felt his stomach drop to the floor.

They could hear her thick heels fade before he bellowed, "It's alright, boys. You may open the door." With guilty expressions on their faces, they obeyed.

Once the doorway was cleared, they were relieved to see it was the man by himself. His most distinctive feature was his well rounded belly. His worn, tired eyes depicted how much he had seen in his years on the job. He had a stern face with a kind smile, a welcomed contrast to their day so far.

"Mister Potter, Mister Weasley," he addressed, "I'm Gawain Robards, head of the Auror Office. I'm sure you have several questions and concerns regarding my conversation with our lovely Auror Sparrow. But first I wish to speak with the two of you in my office. There are matters we must discuss in private. You'll be permitted to familiarize yourselves with the office afterwards so I'll not waste anymore time dillydallying. Shall we?"

* * *

The wizards could not have followed suit any quicker. As soon as the Head Auror motioned for them to follow him, they jumped from their spots and walked out of the old, decrepit classroom. They paced down the hall behind him and were lead to a larger room which held several cubicles and isolated offices. This part of the headquarters seemed more updated and newer compared to the room they were in previously. An unsettling detail they were quick to pick up on was the lack of occupied spaces. The office seemed almost entirely deserted save for three or four people at their desks with stacks of parchment piled meters high.

They walked past a series of interrogation rooms until they reached the Head Auror Office. He gestured for the door to open. His office was cozy, a small intimate space of warm colors and light decor. There were moving pictures depicting him and a woman and children, others with what appeared to be past aurors.

As they took in their surroundings, Robards shut the door behind them. Harry and Ron placed themselves in seats across his desk while the elder took his place in the main chair. They waited patiently as he settled in, pleasantly surprised when he started to laugh.

"I must say Mister Potter, I am quite impressed to hear of your _encounter_ with Sparrow on the elevator today. Not many can stand up to her and live to tell the tale." his kind smile faded with a serious expression. "—however, I must also warn you, too much backlash at a highly ranked auror may easily be interpreted as insubordination, do I make myself clear?"

"Yes sir. It's just that she—I don't mean to be disrespectful but she was being so—"

" _Abrasive_?"

Harry nodded in agreement.

Robards hummed. "She's always been that way, I'm afraid. It's also what made her an excellent auror. Though, I will say that she has become more aggressive over the past few months. As you may have gathered from our conversation and passing through the overall office, we are indeed quite short staffed given the amount of decrements the war has left us in. She suffers like the rest of us. Our numbers are spread thin with ongoing investigations and we are in need of all hands on deck. Unfortunately, what that also means is there is not anyone available to devote themselves entirely to your training. Therefore, I have managed to compromise with Auror Sparrow an _alternative_ training protocol."

Two sets of hopeful eyes widened, "You mean—" Ron attempted to ask, taking in the information.

"Indeed. Training does typically involve fieldwork, although it is usually in the final year. However, if you are able to prove yourselves capable of following protocol within the office, you will be able to start participating with investigations and interrogations within the next few months. Keep in mind, you will have to work closely with our other aurors and perform under their supervision during the entire duration of your training period. It is also crucial that at the end of the day, you report back to me."

Harry nodded, attempting to hide his internal happiness threatening to overwhelm him. "Understood, sir."

"Very good. Now, I know the others are not a fan of your fame or title, Mister Potter but I am thankful you and Mister Weasley are here. With your entrance exams and credits from Hogwarts, you've already proven your willingness to learn and adjust. I can also say for certain you will be able to assist in ways that will be outlandishly beneficial to us."

The bespectacled wizard couldn't hide his eagerness anymore. "What can we do to help?"

His expression grew grim, "What I need you both to understand is the details of the case I am about to disclose to you must remain confidential. I don't want you telling friends or family. There are too many wizards and witches counting on us to find answers and we need to provide them as soon as possible without any information leaking to the press."

The younger wizards looked to each other as they shared a moment of understanding. Ron nodded to him, showing he was mentally prepared to accept the burden that was about to passed along to them.

Harry looked back to the elder wizard and responded with a firm voice. "Then let's get started."

For the first time in weeks, Robards felt hopeful.

* * *

Shortly after the work day ended, the pair of wizards flooed to 12 Grimmauld Place where they resided together for the time being. After they toured the office, they were introduced to the few aurors present in the department. Having to be acquainted to new faces and become familiar with new rules was when they realized how draining the day truly was. Once they arrived, they fell into their own separate routines. Ron had headed straight for the showers and Harry went to a nearby restaurant to order takeout food.

While Ron was finishing up in the bathroom, Harry was writing up a letter detailing his suppressed excitement of today's events. He started on the last paragraph as Ron walked in the living room, plopping himself on the couch next to him.

"Well that was quite the day." Ron said as he helped himself to the food set on the coffee table.

Harry snickered. "No kidding. How lucky are we? To get to work on real cases I bet you more than anything Sparrow wouldn't have even let me in the program if it weren't for Robards."

"Maybe that's not a bad thing. Can you imagine? Three years of this." his words were muffled due to his mouth having had food just shoveled into it.

"I knew what I was signing up for." he said. "Can you not talk while chewing? You're getting it everywhere." he swept the parchment clean to get rid of the crumbs for emphasis.

Ron swallowed, "Sorry. What are you writing?"

"I'm sending a letter to Ginny. She wanted to know how my first day went."

"Blimey, we just saw her off today."

Harry lifted an eyebrow. "She wanted me to tell her how my day went. And I miss her. I'm sure Hermione wouldn't mind receiving a letter from you as well." he tried.

Ron nodded hesitantly and resumed to stuff his face, though less eager than before. The shift in posture did not go unnoticed by Harry who had his own growing suspicions of the couple. He had been trying to find a good time to inquire when they were alone on the status of their relationship. Now that Hermione was absent, he figured now was a good time as any.

"Ron—" Harry glanced away as he prepared to bite the bullet. "—did something happen between you and Hermione?"

He choked.

Short, ugly gasps were expelled as the redhead accidentally inhaled his food from the shock. Harry patted his back as he heaved, his face contorted with regret in regards to his poor timing.

"Why—ahem—why do you ask?" His voice was hoarse.

"I just found it interesting both of you have been rather... _distant_ to each other lately. Like now, you don't even seem to want to write her."

"We had a long day of work and I'm exhausted." he had cleared his voice some more, sounding a bit more like himself.

"And I suppose you're going to use that excuse every day until we retire?" Harry accused.

"There's not much to tell. There's nothing to discuss so it's not very excitin—OW!" he rubbed the back of his head where Harry smacked him with an empty roll of parchment.

"Oi! Out with it mate, I thought you were happy."

Ron sighed dejectedly, "We were for a while, but—I think we want different things."

"A while? You've been together four months!"

He set his food down, suddenly having lost his appetite. "Trust me, Harry. I don't think it's meant to be."

A moment of silence carried them over as Harry contemplated his response. "Are you going to break it off with her?"

"I think I already have." Ron admitted.

The surprise was clear in Harry's voice. "When did this happen?"

"When we dropped her off this morning. I told her I hoped she found what she was looking for at school–" Not noticing the wide-eyed expression watching him through spectacles, he grunted in frustration as he ran his hands down his face. "—I dunno, mate. I wanted to give it a chance. It's Hermione we're talking about here. She's manic, sure. But she's also kind, clever, not to mention has fantastic skin—"

"Sure." Harry nodded in agreement. "—what's not to like?"

"Exactly. But something didn't—I dunno—didn't feel right."

Harry tilted his head. "In what aspect?"

Ron paled.

"Oh...there are details I'm not going to want to hear, isn't there?"

"That's a safe way of putting it."

Harry took a breath and spoke with forced confidence. "You know what? Girls talk about this stuff all the time. We should be able to as well."

Ron looked extremely uncomfortable. "You sure you want to do this, mate?"

"Absolutely not. But we're going to have to get on without Hermione somehow, yeah?"

"You have a point."

"Alright." They watched each other in an uncomfortable silence.

"So how should we start?" Harry asked.

"I think you have to start by asking me what happened."

"Right. What happened?"

"Well, one night a few months ago, Hermione and I tried to...er...have...you know…"

"Sex?" Harry offered.

"Yes... _that_."

"And it didn't go well I take it?"

"She wasn't really...into it."he grimaced at his discomfort.

"Did she not—" he cleared his throat. "—did she not like what you were doing?"

"I doubt it!" he exclaimed as he jumped from his seat. "I didn't have a clue what I was doing! I was so nervous and I was worried about hurting her o-or making her uncomfortable the whole time. It's a lot of work, you know? It's a lot of pressure to put on a bloke." His voice cracked by the last word, absolutely horrified as he recollected the events in further detail. "—my God Harry, I think I traumatized her!" He didn't mean to shout...or stand to pace about the room...or wave his arms around in extreme gestures as he spoke looking like a lunatic. He supposed it was a consequence of holding back his insecurities ever since that night.

It had been a while since that night.

Harry held his palms up to help Ron settle down as he continued to show signs of panicking. "Calm down, Ron. It happens. You just had some first time jitters, that's all."

Ron wrinkled his nose. "First time _what_?"

Harry shook his head as he smiled in amusement. "Sorry, it's a muggle expression. You were nervous for your first time..."

"Well yeah, I was. But it's more than that. I...I don't think I'm in love with her...or her with me."

"How do you mean? You've been chasing after each other for _years._ "

"I know. Believe me Harry, I _know._ I don't know how else to explain it."

Harry rolled his eyes at him. He was going to have to do better than that. "Try me."

Ron pouted. "You're relentless, you are."

"You need to talk or you're never going to figure it out."

"Fine." Ron walked back over to his seat and sat down. "Look...I don't want any details on what you and Ginny have done—" he disregarded the arising blush on Harry's cheeks. "—but I'm assuming you've done it with her. And clearly you're still smitten with her."

Harry nodded with a slight smile. "She makes me happy."

"Right. Which is fantastic and I'm happy for you, mate. I really am." Harry gave a relieved smile. "That's something I didn't have with Herm—what are you on about? What is that smile?" His smile had grown to a full blown grin of mirth.

Harry let out a laugh, "Sorry, I just can't believe we're having this conversation right now."

"I know." Ron sighed, "I feel like she'd be proud of us."

"Or would mock us for making a big deal out of it."

"She does find enjoyment in our suffering."

"She sure does. It's why she puts up with us." The dark haired wizard chuckled before his expression turned serious once more. "So you're certain it's not because your first time was...less than satisfactory?"

He nodded, "Pretty sure it's more than that. We just kind of...jumped into it during the war and never really talked about it. Right when the war ended, you lot spent weeks testifying in the trials and when we finally had a moment to ourselves, it sort of...happened. She felt like she was ready. I was nervous but excited at the same time. Though, when it finally happened, nothing really...clicked."

"So you don't feel that way about her anymore?"

He shook his head. "I still love her, Harry. But I want to go back to the way it was before, when we were friends. When everything was less complicated. Thing about Hermione is, I admire her intelligence but I can't appreciate half of the things she says. I'm not intimidated that she will succeed more than me, not one bit. Maybe that's why we thought we would work well together..."

"You're worried she'll put her career before you."

Ron nodded. "I do."

"You honestly think she would do that to you?"

"I don't just think, Harry. If there's anything I know about Hermione, anyone who gets in the way of her ambition is bad news. You know she told me she could put off going to school so we could talk it out? So I could have what I wanted?"

"And you told her no."

"Neither of us would have been happy if she stayed. She would have resented me."

"You've done a lot of thinking about this."

"Course I have. She was more than my girlfriend, Harry. She was my best friend—has been for years. She deserves to be happy and I won't be the one to hold her back."

Harry was taken aback at the courage his friend had at the moment. "That's big of you, Ron."

He smiled sadly. "Thanks."

"Cheer up, mate." A comforting hand patted his shoulder. "You'll find someone, I'm sure of it."

Ron shook his head. "This sounds a lot like fourth-year-me, but it's not me I'm worried about."

"What? You're worried about her?"

"Well yeah. I'm wondering if she'll take my words to heart. When I told her to find what she was looking for."

"Another bloke, you mean?"

The redhead nodded.

Harry snorted. "She's a war hero. I don't think she'll be short of attracting attention."

"Yeah, but it's Hermione we're talking about. Can imagine there are that many blokes who would be enough to keep up with her?" Ron grinned.

Harry squinted as he quickly ran through a list of fellow classmates in his head and came up empty. "I suppose that's true."

"Not only that, it's not like she's shown much interest in others. Who else has she been daft about besides Krum and I?"

"No one that I know of." he responded.

"Well, maybe Hermione can finally have a school year to focus on her studies for once. Without having to worry about Voldemort, keeping you out of trouble, or getting worked up over a bloke, yeah?" Ron asked apprehensively.

"Let's hope so." Harry patted his shoulder once more before he stood and walked away with the sealed up letter, preparing it to be delivered via his new owl. He heard the noises of Ron happily eating away before he exited the living room and headed for his bedroom.

Since Hedwig had passed, he had received an owl as a gift from an anonymous source a few weeks ago. He suspected it was from Hagrid or one of the faculty members, though McGonagall had told him no one admitted to being responsible for the courteous gesture. Easily spotting her perched by his bedroom window, walked over and petted her. A light smile grew as she nuzzled his palm, feeling a faint sense of déjà vu, as if he had seen this before. Suddenly, glimpses of a particular blond petting the same breed of owl flashed across his vision.

Then he remembered.

That same blond had this breed of owl bring him sweets all throughout their first year. He also recalled seeing the rear of a platinum blond head keeping his distance at the Kings Cross earlier that morning, as if he were purposefully avoiding them.

Harry's smile faded.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Happy Chinese/Lunar New Year to those who celebrate it!
> 
> It took quite a bit of time for me to get this chapter to the way I liked it but I hope you enjoy the Harry/Ron bonding time! 
> 
> Also, prepare yourselves for the next chapter because we're finally getting to what everyone came here for :)


	6. The Strangers

Ch.5 The Strangers

The day before classes officially started was always the most chaotic day out of the school year. The hallways were cluttered with students, veterans and first years alike, as they prepped for the new year. Returning students scrambled to get their last minute supplies and first years bumbled around to learn their way around the castle.

A hindrance occurred in the main corridor as a pair of students made their way to their common room from the library. There wasn't anything particularly abnormal about either of them. Both minded their own as they carried their respective books down the long hallway. Except for the fact that one of them held a stack of books that strongly resembled the Leaning Tower of Pisa. Her companion looked onward with hesitance.

Ginny kept her voice low. "Everyone is staring at us."

"I can see that, Ginny—" Hermione remarked. "—and I'm pretty sure it's just me they're staring at."

"I wonder why that is." She glanced wearily to the tall stack of books in Hermione's hands, preparing for when they eventually decided to topple over.

"It's obvious, isn't it?"

"I'd assume it's because you've overdone it." The redhead said plainly.

"Overdone what?"

Ginny gestured wildly to the books in her hands. "You do see this, correct?"

"My books? What about them?" Hermione almost sounded offended.

"That stack is enormous, Hermione. It's no wonder why everyone is staring. Did you really need all of them?"

Her hold on the books tightened, almost in a protective manner. Defense flashed in her eyes. "Don't be silly. This is only some of them."

She lifted a brow at her. " _Some_?"

"Yes." She tilted her head up. "Evidently, someone else had the same idea so the library could only hold some of the ones I requested."

She was appalled. Ginny had some exposure to Hermione's study habits in their later years but this was more intense than she expected. "You mean...they're not even mandatory?"

Hermione glanced away. "Not...exactly. I wanted to take extra classes to compensate for last year and there is so much I need to catch up on. This is only– _ahem_ –supplemental material..." she mumbled the last bit.

Ginny was rendered speechless as she tried to understand how she managed to look after their boyfriends and keep up with her grades so meticulously. Hermione mistakenly took her silence as judgmental disbelief.

"Regardless, I'm pretty sure they're looking at me because they're getting used to me being here when I shouldn't be—"

Oh.

_Right._

She had nearly forgotten about that.

"—not to mention people here are used to my mannerisms by now," Hermione continued to ramble. "—they know to avoid me on the first day after a trip to the library."

Ginny turned to her. "Hey, hey _easy._ I was only joking." she smiled reassuringly.

Hermione cleared her throat, "Right then."

"But what if you run into some unsuspecting first year who has no idea?" She asked in a lighthearted manner.

Hermione caught on to her attempt to ease her tension. "If they can see me, then there's no need to be concerned. Not to mention the fact that I have you to guide me as well."

"That is flawed logic." She sounded amused.

Hermione blinked. "How is that flawed?"

"You're assuming I'm looking out for you." She responded teasingly.

She then scoffed, flipping her bundle of curls around as she turned her head to face the grinning redhead.

"Are you going to let me run into someone, then?"

"If you run into someone, it's going to be because _you_ decided to reserve more than ten books at the library."

"So it's my fault that I want a fulfilling education."

"No, it's your fault because you can't see where you're bloody going."

"It'll be alright, Ginny. Now hurry it along, would you?" Her legs picked up the pace slightly. "I want to get back and have enough time to sort them before cur—"

"—Mione, watch out!"

Cries of pain were expelled as the books in her hand were suddenly forced back on her body, throwing her off balance. Her bottom throbbed as it made contact with the solid ground. Hermione winced and rubbed her sore areas as the situation sunk in. Someone had crashed into her and as a result, their books were scattered between them, spread in disarray.

"—so sorry about that. Are you alright?" she heard a velvety voice directed at her. She straightened her gaze to see a hand outstretched in front of her, offering to help her off the floor. She looked up, eyes burst into shock. She heard herself gasp as she recognized him. The witch concluded she must be dreaming or hit her head when she fell.

A _Slytherin_ was asking her if she was alright?

Nonetheless, she tentatively took the extended hand and let herself be helped from the ground.

"Hello, Granger. Lovely to see you again." he acknowledged her with a brief nod once she got on her feet.

Hermione's jaw remained dropped as she looked at Ginny for reassurance. She seemed to be on the same level of confusion as her. "I'm-uh-it's good to see you as well, Zabini." She hoped her skepticism wasn't too evident.

Blaise reached down to extract his wand out of his pocket. "Apologies for my carelessness. I was carrying around quite a tall order. Bit hard to see where I was going." He waved his wand, forcing their books to fly from the pile on the ground to assemble into two neatly stacked towers. She stared at them, wide-eyed.

"You're not hurt, are you?" He asked, concerned while pocketing his wand.

"Oh! No, no—" She was taken back at his sincerity and shook her head slowly. "Not to worry. I've been through much worse." She smiled faintly though instantly regretted it when she became aware of her poor choice of words. His frown and guilty expression only proving so.

"No-no-no, that's not what I...I'm quite clumsy, is all I meant. It's reassuring to see I'm not the only ambitious one around here." She gestured to his own stack of books slightly shorter than hers.

He chuckled. "You misunderstand. The books are mine _and_ my friends' combined. I drew the short wand and was sent to get them while they remain giggling away in the common room." he shrugged.

Ginny stifled a laugh. "That's unfortunate."

He hadn't acknowledged her at this point. "Indeed. Until now." he eyed her with intent, a sly smile grew.

Ginny flushed and cleared her throat, looking down to avoid any eye contact. Blaise seemed pleased with himself.

Hermione flickered her eyes between the two of them, willing to do anything to break the tension. "I wasn't aware there were members of Slytherin returning as well. I was under the impression you were in attendance last year." she blurted.

The dark skinned wizard turned his focus back to her, handsome brows fully raised. "Am I the first you've seen?"

"I saw you and Nott at the banquet but that's it. Just you two."

His eyes narrowed slightly as he considered her words. "I see. Yes, I will say our final year was rather...unsatisfying to say the least. You know...with new restrictions in place and the impending war—minor details." He waved his hand flippantly. "It didn't help nearly all the professors were constantly on high alert. So, like you, a select few were also offered a second chance to return once the trials were over for a more... _fulfilling_ experience."

"I take it not everyone took advantage of that opportunity," she evaluated.

He shook his head. "Not many were offered the chance to begin with since it depended on the severity of their involvement with Voldemort's affairs. Others decided to work straight away or pursue a life of peace elsewhere."

Hermione gnawed the inside of her cheek as she took in the new pieces of information. "Understood. Well I'm glad you and Nott decided to return."

"As am I. Well, I best be off. I need to get back before my so-called friends get their knickers in a twist—" he knelt down to pick up the stack of books, "—absolute wankers, the lot of them. They're the ones who _actually_ care about their grades." He finished with a grunt as he tried to adjust them in his hold comfortably.

"And you don't?"

"I'd be lying if I told you it was my sole priority. I have other...reasons for returning if you know what I mean." He winked at her.

She scoffed, eyes twinkled with amusement. "Not a chance, Zabini." She giggled when he feigned a pout. "Though I will say, it was relatively pleasant chatting with you," she added.

"Oddly enough, the feeling is mutual, Granger. I was mostly kidding by the way. But I'll tell you this; as a bloke who's seen both sides of the war—" he leaned in closer, "—I regret how we treated you. _Truly."_ his lips twitched upward.

She exhaled, floored by his integrity and nodded meekly in agreement. "I appreciate that, Zabini."

"I'll see you around, Granger." He shifted to look at Ginny. "Weasley." He drew her name out in a low tone before brushing past them with his books in hand, a slight limp in his step. Hermione was shaking her head, laughing lightly. She turned her head back to her redheaded companion who was still staring at his retreating figure.

"Ginny? Are you alright?"

"Hmm? What was that?" She sounded far off. Distracted. Hermione rolled her eyes and nudged her shoulder.

"Knock it off, Ginny. We need to get back. Besides, how would Harry feel about you ogling over another guy?" Hermione bent down to pick up her books with only minimal tussling.

She shrugged her shoulders. "Probably the same as I did when I caught him eyeing Parkinson."

Hermione shuddered with repulse. "I still can't believe he found her attractive, even if it was only for a little while. She was an awful person."

"Men work in mysterious ways, Hermione." Her eyes shifted to her face and to her books in hand. "And give me some of those, will ya?" Ginny reached up to take a third of Hermione's monstrous stack of books, making it significantly more manageable. "You look ridiculous carrying that many books around, you know? Someone could get hurt."

Hermione stood in place, baffled as she watched as Ginny walk away with a pleased look on her face.

A few moments passed.

"You...you're joking! You could've done that this whole time!" She stood quickly and followed the laughter echoing from the other end of the corridor.

* * *

The Gryffindor common room was relatively empty when they made it with their books in tow. Ginny dropped her books on her bed with a dramatic huff while Hermione spread hers out on her own bed. The redhead bit the inside of her cheek while she thought. "What do you think that was about?"

Hermione responded distractedly as she shuffled her books around. "Sorry?"

"Zabini. What do you think he was playing at? Acting all nice to us. It was very out-of-character, don't you think?"

"I suppose," she offered weakly. To be honest, it was the only thing on her mind since they collided. She wasn't even sorting through her books properly, for she had been picking up the same book and misplaced it for the fourth time.

She gasped. "Maybe it was a prank!" She gasped again. "Maybe he planted a hex in your books! Quick, we should check your books now and make sure—" Hermione grabbed her frantic hands before she could disturb her books.

"Ginny, _relax_. I think...I think he was being genuine." She looked down at the pile and put the book in the proper spot before proceeding onto the next one.

Hermione looked up when the redhead didn't respond verbally. Ginny had simply placed her hands on her hips with an expression she could only interpret as, ' _you can't be fucking serious_.'

"What?"

"Do I need to check that head of yours? Maybe you fell harder than you think—"

The thought had crossed Hermione's mind once or twice.

"Believe me," she cut her off. "—it's strange to me as well. But it's not like he was forced to be here. He's old enough to decide that for himself so if he didn't want to be here, then he wouldn't be. And if I'm wrong about him, then I'm wrong but I refuse to let my speculations keep me distracted the one year I can finally have some peace." She stopped at the sound of tapping. Both looked to the window where an owl was pecking the window with a letter in its beak.

Ginny sighed and walked over to the window to let the owl in.

"I suppose you're right." She took the letter from the owl, petting it briefly before opening the letter. Her eyes rapidly scanned over the script, crinkling at the corners as she approached the end.

"Now come on, we need to prepare for our last first day of classes tomorrow." Hermione said, excitedly. Ginny only shook her head, her teeth shining brightly.

"You go on and start. I'm going to respond to Harry." She lifted the unfolded sheet of parchment.

Hermione sat up, inhaling sharply. "Of course, their first day! How did it go?"

"Great! Harry said he couldn't get into details but they're advancing through the training since the department is short staffed." She paused. "Wait, has Ron not reached out to you?"

Hermione shook her head dejectedly. Ginny had been aware of the minor details regarding the strains on their budding romance but not of the latest development as of their parting at Kings Cross. She felt guilty for not informing her female best friend of the current state of their relationship but she felt it was best to keep details discreet for the time being. At least until she was able to figure it out herself. Her heart was still fragile on the subject, it seemed.

Ginny grimaced sympathetically. Deciding in that moment to keep her spirits up, her bright smile returned. "I'm sure his letter will turn up soon." She put her hand on her shoulder in reassurance. "Now, I'll hurry and send off Harry a response and we'll get our things ready for classes together, yeah?"

Hermione beamed as the doubts cleared out of her mind, making space for her desired priorities. She reminded herself she was here to enjoy her last school year and she was not going to let a single thing ruin it.

* * *

"—excuse me...pardon me...so sorry!"

Hermione was a pace shy of running as she made her way down the corridor, nearly colliding with half the students along the way for she had done the impossible.

She was late for class on the first day.

Multiple sets of wandering eyes followed a blur of curly brown hair as passed by. Hermione zipped her way through, squeezing her way in the crowd of students. One hand held her potions textbook and assorted notebooks while the other held her growling stomach. She hadn't missed breakfast before.

Her blood pumped maddeningly through her veins as her adrenaline skyrocketed with fear of being reprimanded for running in the halls. A sigh of relief escaped when she spotted the entrance to the classroom. Quickly, she looked both ways for any professors before she bolted towards the classroom. Unfortunately, due to her tunnel vision, she was unable to see the cluster of first year boys heading straight for her until it was too late.

She let out an exclamation of surprise when someone pulled her back to hold her firm against a warm body as the books previously in her grasp were sent flying to the floor. The boys ran past them, oblivious to the girl they had nearly run over. Professor Filch passed shortly after in pursuit of them, grumbling to himself as he did so.

Hermione's chest heaved as the adrenaline subsided. She felt the large hands holding her arms release her and heard them brush off freshly pressed robes as she knelt down to collect her books.

Hermione frantically reached for her scattered books and didn't pay any mind to identify the stranger who had caught her. She was on the brink of thanking her savior until she heard him speak.

 _"Late for class, are we? That's unlike you..._ "

Her hand froze in its position over her potions textbook.

She recognized that drawl anywhere.

Almost in slow motion, Hermione stood and turned to face him. She looked at him as if he were a ghost although his complexion was comparable.

"Malfoy." His name left her lips in a hushed tone, like a forbidden curse.

"Granger." He cleared his throat, showing discomfort under her scrutiny.

She choked on her breath when it came her turn to add to the exchange, quickly rummaging through all the things she could possibly say to him:

_Good to see you, it's been a while since your trial._

_How are you faring now with your mother on probation and_ _your father in prison?_

 _You're looking_ _healthier than when you spent all of last year trying to assassinate our headmaster._

Maybe just a simple hello would suffice. Things were different between them now, right? They were on the other side of a war, after all. She'd like to think they could move beyond their childhood rivalry. Zabini appeared to have moved on.

_Zabini wasn't the one who hexed you to have enlarged buck teeth in front of everyone._

_He wasn't the one who openly called you 'Mudblood' on a regular basis._

_He wasn't the one who brought you to tears after consecutive weeks of teasing because he was 'bored'._

Hermione slammed her eyes shut, attempting to suppress the negative thoughts and memories. Forgiveness was not an option at the moment, it seemed.

_Don't overthink it, Hermione. Just talk to him._

Ultimately, she was overwhelmed with the surprise of seeing him here knowing he was offered a position with the ministry following his trial. Letting her feelings take over while her brain was on overdrive, she settled for the first decent option that came to her mind.

"So..." she started lamely, "—you've returned to Hogwarts." She wincing as soon as the words left her mouth.

"Astute observation, Granger. Your ability to point out the obvious is quite remarkable."

It didn't matter. She felt that no matter what she said, he would find a way to taunt her about it. She inhaled and closed her eyes, reminding herself to maintain her composure. "What are you doing here?"

He raised a brow. "Getting an education? That's what you do at a school if I'm not mistaken." Maybe she deserved that one.

"But you have no need for that, you were pardoned." All signs of amusement disappeared from his face.

"My presence here is none of your business. Just slow it down next time, would you? Someone might mistaken you for a prepubescent first year." He spat in a condescending tone.

She crossed her arms, unimpressed. "There's no need for the attitude, Malfoy."

"As I recall, you were the one asking unnecessary questions."

"Some of us are naturally curious and welcome questions."

"Some of us avoid rhetorical ones and despise small talk."

"Good to see you're still a detestable cad."

"Good to see you're still an insufferable know-it-all." He winced as soon as the words came out. It appeared to affect Hermione as well, the echoes of his words ringing in her ears as if their late potions professor were back from the dead and saying them himself.

"I..." Her momentary pause seemed to snap him out of his brief stupor.

"Don't you have a class to get to? That is why you're in such a rush, is it not?" He held out her textbook with a raised brow.

When did he pick that up?

Horrified at the truth to his words, she abruptly jerked the book out of his hand while muttering a curse under her breath. She overlooked the mirth plastered on his face as she dashed away.

Bursting through the door, she attracted the attention of a few of the occupants, eyes focused on only her and her frantic presence. Her entrance did not go unnoticed by Professor Slughorn who was in the middle of going over lesson plans.

"Ah Miss Granger, glad you could make it. Please, have a seat." He turned back towards the board to continue writing.

She felt her cheeks heat up when several snickers were expelled throughout the crowd. Her eyes swiftly scanned the classroom for any vacant seats, attention drawn to the seat next to Ginny that she likely saved for her. Once she walked over to it, she sank in it dutifully.

Ginny didn't waste any time to interrogate her. " _About time. Where have you been_?"

"My alarm didn't go off this morning. It didn't help that I ran into someone on the way here." She answered, frustrated.

" _Ah. Someone who wanted to chat_?"

Hermione huffed. "Not exactly—"

At that moment, the door opened again. This time, a composed blonde walked through. He kept his head down as he proceeded to the remaining seat beside Blaise on the other side of the classroom. Hermione's jaw clenched and shifted her head to the front where their potions professor hadn't made a second glance in his direction. She looked around the classroom.

No one batted an eye at him.

" _You must be joking_." She muttered, furious.

* * *

"—and you didn't think to wake me up for breakfast?" Hermione was livid as they exited the classroom. She had held back her temper for the duration of the lecture though it only grew the more she tried to keep it in.

Ginny let out a laugh, "I tried, Hermione. Really, I did but you weren't budging and I was not going to wait around and miss breakfast. I figured you'd want to sleep in anyways given how late you stayed up sorting your books."

She groaned in frustration. And hunger. "I was making adjustments to my potions textbook," she explained.

"Adjustments?"

She nodded. "I remembered the renditions Harry did with every assignment sixth year. All of his potions came out perfect."

"Ah yes. The 'Great Chosen One' who miraculously had the highest grade in your class." She said jokingly.

Hermione laughed. "Only in potions—" she corrected. "He wasn't even second of our class." Her smirk faded briefly.

"Really? Who was?"

Hermione cleared her throat, disgruntled. "Doesn't matter. Regardless, I know I can score higher on my N.E.W.T.s with these adjustments. Even if it is because of that cursed textbook—"

"Cursed textbook? Are you referring to the same textbook you practically begged him to get rid of?" She sounded almost proud. "You're wicked, you are!"

"Look, I'm not denying in saying that it wasn't a dangerous book but there were useful edits made by Professor Snape himself. I am simply adjusting the recipes in my own book to what a former potions professor had done," she reasoned partly to herself.

"I think it's smart." Luna offered as she stepped up to them.

"Hello Luna. It's so good to see you."Hermione greeted her.

"You too. I'm glad to see you are doing well."

Hermione cocked her head. "Why wouldn't I be?"

"You ran into someone. Or rather, someone grabbed you it looks like."

"What? What is she talking about?" Ginny asked.

"How did you know?"

"You have a few wrackspurts. Strange pattern, though. You've also been rubbing your arms."

Ginny's brows drew together. "What are wrackspurts?"

"They're tiny particle-like beings—" Hermione tuned them out when she saw Malfoy exiting the classroom, head down in the textbook as he walked off.

"Excuse me for a moment..." she murmured. Neither Ginny or Luna acknowledged her as they became engrossed in their own conversation. Hermione skipped swiftly to catch up to him, provided he had the benefit of having longer legs to carry him greater distances. A few strides later and she was walking along side him at the same pace as he kept his head down in his textbook.

"I never thanked you earlier." She said, a little breathless.

He made no obvious attempt to acknowledge her. She wouldn't have known he heard her if she didn't see his blinking stutter.

"Your gratitude is unnecessary." His tone was even and unwavering.

Hermione pressed her lips together. "You didn't mention you were going to the same class." She tried again.

He glanced at her, jaw already tightened. "Didn't realize I owed an explanation of my whereabouts every minute of the day." He retaliated.

She'd had enough of his stiff persona, and her pent up rage finally set itself free. "So how does this work? You maintain an exceptional grade in our potions class so that you can waltz in whenever it pleases you?"

"Maybe you didn't hear the part where I said it was none of your business."

"No, I did. This is me disregarding your comment and addressing your arrogance."

With a slam of his textbook, he faced her head on, stopping their progression down the hallway to an area with less foot traffic.

"What are you on about?" He snapped, glowering.

" _This._ You prancing around like you own the place. Professor Slughorn didn't even flinch when you walked in late and the only explanation I could come up with was your nearly perfect grade sixth year."

Much to her surprise, he smirked at her. "Well, well. Keeping tabs on me, eh Granger?" Hermione felt the faint brush of nostalgia at the sight. She hadn't seen that infuriating smirk of his in a long time.

Similarly, she felt the familiar arising urge to slap it off his face.

"Obviously. I needed to know just how much effort to put in order to stay just above you without overexerting myself." She replied, crossing her arms across her chest.

"Who would've thought you to have a comedic side?" He retorted dryly.

She squinted at him.

"How is that funny?" She asked, dubious.

"It's funny," he began, a hint of malice taking form, "because you're the most arrogant person I've ever met and you're here lecturing me."

"I'm only telling you what no one else will." She replied simply.

"What else to expect from someone who thrives on bossing people around." He glared at her pointedly.

She scoffed, "I didn't realize _helping_ people was a crime."

"How difficult it must be for you to have that mentality," he remarked, mockingly. "Tell me, how embarrassing was it knowing when you started your last first day here _tardy_ and _unprepared_?" He applied a harsh emphasis to the words he knew would stick out to her the most.

"As were you!" She spat back.

"Not that it is any of your concern," he drawled in a posh tone, "Professor Slughorn already knew I was going to be late. I was on my way to class when you showed up and I certainly wasn't expecting to see you nearly get yourself killed by first years."

Her breath hitched.

The fuel was cut.

The flame extinguished.

She continued to breathe heavily as her boiling blood settled and receded from her ears.

The same boy who used to wish for her death just…willingly saved her? She kept her eyes ahead, refusing to look at him. "You... _why_ did you—?"

He snorted, "It was purely instinctual, believe me. I've already begun to regret it."

Her brow furrowed.

" _Oi! Draco! Are you ready to go_?" Came Zabini's voice from down the hall. She could practically feel his curious eyes flickering between the two of them.

The blond straightened himself and the corner of his mouth lifted, seemingly pleased with her current confounded state.

"See you around, Granger." He brushed past her to walk in the other direction towards Blaise while she stood in place, fists clenched as she tried to calm the rapid thumping in her chest.


	7. The Assignment

Ch.6: The Assignment

**September 4, 1998**

Needless to say, Hermione was quick to take extra precautions in order to ensure she was never late for class again.

Like clockwork, she set multiple alarms and checked to make sure she had all her items prepared at least seven times the night before as opposed to her standard three. To add on even more insurance, she showed up half an hour before potions provided it was her first class of the day. Professor Slughorn assured her that was unnecessary though she insisted it was beneficial for her to use that time to catch up on homework while everyone else was at breakfast.

Classes went swimmingly for the rest of the week as a result. She was able to get all of her homework done in advance, giving her extra time for her supplemental readings. When she wasn't occupied with those, she was able to spend the rest of her free time with Ginny and Luna. In any case, there was a steady stream of work and pastimes that kept her mind off other things. Namely, the mixed responses to the letters she sent to her friends last night. One responded almost immediately while she had yet to hear from the other.

She tried not to dwell on it too much.

In the midst of taking precautionary measures, she found herself thinking back to the first day of classes when she took out her frustrations on a certain classmate of hers. The compassionate part of her did feel repentant for demonstrating such enmity when he genuinely had done nothing wrong. The rest of her felt it was justified, deeming it to be a force of habit. A habit she developed after years of being targeted by threats and other assorted forms of verbal abuse. Fortunately for her, those diminished during their sixth year.

After the Dark Lord marked him—tainted him—and burdened him with an impossible task.

To this day, Hermione found herself to be plagued by the day she ran after him. That day was the day she made the unyielding decision to confront him on her own, knowing very well she was chancing her luck with a potential Death Eater. It was the first time she saw him in a moment of weakness, the first time she saw him display any signs of regret. For a moment, it felt like they were more than two enemies thrown onto opposing sides of the war.

She couldn't help but shake off the fact that she saw something more in him that day. Her natural curiosity grew with their run-ins as the war progressed. Flash forward a year and the war was finally over. Now she had a chance to find out what that something was.

Before she could do so, she felt obligated to apologize for defaulting to a hostile interaction after all they had endured. It was already a demanding task on its own, only proving to be more so now that he was blatantly avoiding her.

When he saw her walk down the same corridor, he would turn and walk the other direction. Blaise, and eventually Theo, had come up to her several times throughout the week bearing brief greetings, consistently without their third companion.

She didn't blame him for doing so. If anything, it was a constant reminder that the scars of their past ran deeper than any other. This wasn't something they could get over with a few kind gestures and time away from each other. No, that respect had to be earned. For her, she'd have to commend an immense amount of forgiveness and trust. She decided she would initiate a truce with a formal apology the next time she had the opportunity but that would only be the first step of many. For he had to be willing. Willing to surrender his prejudice and all preconceptions to view her as an equal.

Not that it was impossible.

Just very— _extremely_ —improbable.

* * *

Later that evening, Hermione settled in to her usual spot in the library. She had been there the past few hours reading up on one of her supplemental readings for an essay where she was required to elaborate on the practicality of dragon scales.

Friday nights usually left the library more silent than usual, thus making it the ideal time for Hermione to have a moment alone from the hustle and bustle. She was nearing the end of her book, content with the peaceful stillness of the room and embracing the familiar sensation of obtaining new knowledge.

All was well.

Until a stack containing various parchments and newspaper landed close to where she was tucked into the book.

Too close.

Forcibly startled from her thoughts, she jumped in her seat and jerked her head up from her novel only to find silver eyes staring back, a hint of childish satisfaction dancing within his gaze. He held his hand up the second she opened her mouth to chastise him.

"No need for animosity, Granger. I'm just delivering a parcel."

She eyed the stack curiously. "What's this?"

He rolled his eyes dramatically. "How should I know? I don't make it a habit of prying through other's mail."

Pursing her lips, she reached for the stack and untied the knot of twine holding the bundle together. She looked at the first page with confusion. It was a recipe for Yorkshire pudding. "Who is it from?"

"McGonagall. Said they were important."

She shuffled through the first few sheets—an old news article from 1974—a receipt for a Nimbus 2000—a blank permission slip for a trip to Hogsmeade.

The crease in her brow grew. "But what—"

"—I don't have time for your rhetorical questions so unless you have something important to discuss, I shall take my leave." Deciding he had had enough of this conversation, he made a derisive bow and turned to make his exit.

He was nearly out of earshot when he heard her sigh heavily.

"You know you can't spend the entire year avoiding me." He heard from behind.

"I can certainly try." he retorted sarcastically as he continued to walk away.

"Why?" The tone of apprehension was hard to miss.

He halted.

He turned to face her, appearing skeptical. "' _Why_ '?"

She cast her gaze downward, cursing her bloody morals.

"Look..." she began slowly. "—if this is because of how I acted earlier this week, I wanted to apo—"

"You never cared for my presence before." he interrupted like he hadn't heard her at all. "Why would that change now?"

Thrown off by his abruptness, she hesitated. "I..." Glimpses of memories flashed through her mind.

His warning to keep her distance from him.

His hesitance at the manor to provide their identity.

The pleading eyes she saw as she laid on his drawing room floor.

"I thought that things would be different," she answered honestly.

He was silent as he considered her words. Pursing his lip, he briskly walked back to the table where she sat. Standing opposite to her, he leaned his hands on it, propping himself up easily as he examined her with an unfamiliar glint in his gaze. Her eyes flickered to his arms. Had they always been that toned? She jerked her eyes back to his face before he could notice her diverted attention. Hermione instinctively recoiled into her chair, apprehensive at the newfound proximity.

"Malfoy, what are you—"

"Are you expecting us to be friends merely because we ended on the same side, Granger?" he asked as he stared her down. She opened her mouth to answer but he continued. "—let me be clear about something. We didn't win. We _survived_. We had our own detestable roles in that miserable war and did what we had to do. We don't have to pretend like anything's changed so let's just move on with our lives." He spoke almost defensively.

She frowned at him. In the midst of his icy stare, she could have sworn she recognized a flash of uncertainty. But it didn't matter. She already felt her insides begin to clench at the message insinuated by his choice of words.

He still saw her as inferior to him.

She had helped him but none of it made a difference.

She knew there was a chance this would be the case yet somehow hearing it from him..she couldn't help but feel like a fool for believing otherwise.

She exhaled as an attempt to maintain her composure. "If that's how you feel—" She slammed her book shut with excessive force, suddenly feeling uncomfortable being alone with him. "—then so be it." Oddly enough, he retracted as she did so. As if he didn't seem to expect that reaction from her. Nevertheless, she stood to grab her book and tattered stack of parchment as she glowered at him.

"Enjoy your freedom, Malfoy. I hope you will always remember how you got it with the help of a _filthy, little_ _Mudblood._ " she forced a brief smile before she marched off towards the exit without looking back, rendering him alone in the library.

* * *

**September 5, 1998**

"Thanks for coming along. It's nice to have someone other than my mum go shopping with me." Ginny stated gratuitously.

"Of course." Luna responded with the kind smile that constantly graced her features. "I needed new shoes, anyways. It's not uncommon for them to mysteriously disappear but it's rather odd for them to be vanishing so quickly—"

The weekend had overall been a refreshing time for her so far. Deciding on a change of scenery, Ginny acquired Hermione and Luna to spend the afternoon in Hogsmeade for lunch and to shop around for dresses. Ginny mentioned Harry was intending to make date night a regular occurrence every other weekend and thus was in dire need of an upgrade to her wardrobe. It was also an ideal time for her to do so before Quidditch tryouts took effect in the coming week.

Which is what found the trio walking the streets among the various stories. Ginny and Luna were chatting in the background whereas Hermione found herself deep in thought. She was genuinely happy for Ginny and Harry, though it did remind her of the lack of communication from her own...whatever he was at this point. She regretted never taking the chance to explicitly state where they stood before they headed separate ways.

"— _Hermione decided to sell her signed copy of 'Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them..._ "

She jolted her head up to look at Ginny as if she said she murdered her cat. "What did you just say?!"

Ginny beamed. "Knew that would get your attention."

"You're rather distracted, Hermione. Do you want to talk about it?" Luna offered.

She shrunk back into herself. "Not particularly."

With that statement, Ginny turned and ceased Hermione mid-step.

"Alright, out with it. Is it about Ron?" She felt a pang in her chest. Hermione hadn't told her she caved and wrote a letter without a response. Shaking her head, she decided she was not ready to address the still sensitive topic for the time being.

Luna looked at her curiously. "Does this have something to do with Malfoy, perhaps?"

Now _that,_ was a topic she was willing to use as a distraction.

"How could you tell?"

Luna shrugged her shoulders.

"You were rather cross after you talked to him the other day." Ginny scrunched up her face. "Now that I think about it, why did you approach him in the first place?"

"I was curious what he was doing back at Hogwarts. Especially after he was given the pardon from the Ministry." Hermione decided to leave out the minor detail of their encounter before class.

"Guess his little trio technically wouldn't be complete without him. But you heard Blaise. They wanted to finish their schooling properly. He was likely referring to Malfoy and Nott being here for academics."

Hermione looked at her, amused. "So you believe him, now?"

Ginny shrugged, "I've talked to him a few times since that day. The war changed everyone in a way, I suppose."

"Some more than others." Hermione muttered.

"Speaking of the devil..." Luna expressed, staring ahead to where Malfoy had stepped out of a nearby store with an unfamiliar female. Hermione took in the sight of the girl gushing verbally while he had his signature smirk on display.

"Too bad it couldn't wipe off that eternal smirk off his face." Hermione expressed as they watched him interact with the clearly infatuated girl.

"You know it's really a shame, Hermione. He is quite attractive." Luna said plainly. Ginny nodded in agreement.

Hermione only responded with a glare.

"What? I may be taken but I'm still a woman with perfect vision." Ginny said, matter-of-factly.

"And no standards at all." Hermione mumbled.

"Oh come on. I'm not denying he's a terrible person and has an ego comparable to Harry's but even you have to admit puberty did him well."

"I can't even look at him without thinking of the awful things he's done..." That was mostly true. She included their interaction in the library as one of them. How could she have made such an error in judgement of character by thinking he could change?

Hermione looked back to the spot where he stood and found he was no longer there. Neither was the girl.

She exhaled in relief.

"I don't blame you, Hermione. He was cruel to everyone. Especially to the three of you in particular but I thought—I dunno—it would be better now? Didn't you stand up for him at his trial?"

"Don't remind me." She spat menacingly.

Ginny gaped at her. "Well, okay then."

Luna held her arm comfortingly. "Tell us Hermione. What brought this on?"

She made a mental note to praise Harry later for seeing past Luna's eccentric personality and befriending her. "He stopped by the library last night to deliver a parcel from McGonagall after avoiding me all week. I thought it was because I essentially took out my anger at him after that day but it turns out to not be the case."

Ginny and Luna watched her intently as they waited for her to continue.

"He said just because the war ended the way it did didn't mean things changed between us."

The two grimaced sympathetically.

Ginny spoke up. "That certainly complicates things. What about the things you discussed with McGonagall?"

Recollection dawned Hermione's face and she began to dig through her enchanted bag.

"Funny you should mention that. I tore apart that parcel he gave me, thinking it was something important. At first, I thought it was a joke until I found this—" She pulled out a crumpled sheet of parchment from the bag and held it out to the redhead. "McGonagall stuck this in there." Hermione crossed her arms as Ginny unfolded the letter and read the contents aloud.

" _Miss Granger,_

 _I take it you discovered Mister Malfoy has decided to return to Hogwarts. And if you hadn't by now, this is my way of making sure you are aware. I hope you recall our discussion at the start of the school year and_ _expect you to treat him with the same amount of respect_ _as I'm sure you have provided the other Slytherin students. I have also taken the liberty of speaking with him myself and he assured me there would be no hostility directed your way. I do not expect you to become friends by any means. Although, I do hope you both find your peace after the war during your time at Hogwarts, even if it means being under the same roof for the time being._

_Regards,_

_Minerva._ _"_

Ginny was appalled. "Wow. She's good, I'll give her that." she handed the parchment back.

Hermione let out a sound of frustration. "It's why she chose to speak with me before the banquet. It's like she thinks we're going to magically get along now or something."

"That's not fair, is it? She can't expect you to look out for him when all he did throughout the school years was torment you."

"I know. All I wanted a year without any conflict. All I know is whenever _he_ is involved—" she emphasized by pointing to where he stood earlier. "—there is _always_ conflict."

"So what are you going to do?" Luna asked.

"I am going to do my best to ignore him and move on. I came here to complete my N.E.W.T.s and that is exactly what I'm going to do," Hermione declared.

"That's it? You're not going to let the fact that you helped an ex-Death Eater from being sentenced to Azkaban and the fact that he fully intends to keep his prejudiced beliefs bother you?"

_We did what we had to do. Let's just move on with our lives._

_We don't have to pretend like anything's changed._

"No, I'm not. He made his choice—" Her fist clenched, subconsciously crumpling the sheet of parchment into a ball. "—and I've made mine."

* * *

**September 7, 1998**

Although Hermione planned to ensure her and Malfoy's paths didn't cross more than necessary for the rest of the year, it was proving to be nearly impossible seeing as they shared most classes with each other. Thankfully, classes and meals were the only times she saw him for an extended period of time.

Like now.

Class was approaching the end as Professor Slughorn repeated the details of their current lecture for the third time per a classmate's request. She had stopped taking notes a few minutes ago and propped her head up with her elbow on the desk.

Surely, this couldn't be that difficult to comprehend.

Curiously, Hermione's eyes shifted about the classroom to see most everyone was still jotting notes aggressively with varying expressions of despair. Her eyes continued to wander before settling to where Malfoy sat in the desk adjacent to hers with Ginny and Blaise between them. His handsome face at ease as Professor Slughorn gave the lecture. His long, slender fingers wrapped around a quill as he wrote delicately.

Realizing who she was essentially staring at, she shook her head violently and redirected her attention to the front of the classroom, only to find Professor Slughorn handling a tall stack of parchment.

"We've finished the lesson for today and have a few minutes left to spare." He flicked his wand to distribute packets to everyone's desk. Hermione looked down at the one that landed in front of her. It was a list of potions. Rather complicated ones, she noted.

"For your major assignment this term, it will require you to select an advanced potion to brew successfully. I have provided you a list of pre-approved potions and will allow you to come to me if you have a potion in mind that is not on this list. _However,_ there are restrictions. Obviously, nothing illegal and _nothing_ can be made with the intent to harm another. That will result in an immediate suspension. Do I make myself clear?"

Silence.

A wrinkly, ecstatic smile grew.

"Very good. Now, an essential part of potions is understanding how the creator affects the final product which is why for this assignment, you will be assigned a partner..."

Hermione detested group assignments. Not because she didn't get along with others but because she usually ended up doing all the work for it.

"I have taken the liberty to assign your partners ahead of time according to your work ethic and academic history. To begin...Mister Cabbott, I have assigned you to partner up with Mister Charter." Hermione watched as the two Ravenclaw students sitting in front of her high fived each other and grinned. She curled her lip.

Work ethic, my arse.

Though, she supposed it was better than pairing the Cabbott twins together. The pair were sorted into Ravenclaw but they may as well have been Slytherin with their degree of mischief. Except for the fact they hated Slytherin just about as much as any Gryffindor did previously.

"—Miss Weasley, you will be working with Mister Zabini."

That was unexpected.

She saw Ginny turn her head to look at him with crossed arms while he grinned enthusiastically. She huffed to express her indifference, supposing she could do worse. Hermione couldn't help but be content at the disappointment Malfoy showcased. While she took mild pleasure at his disadvantage, she couldn't help but commiserate for it looked like neither of them would get to work with who they clearly preferred.

Twelve more pairs of students were called out and with the leftover pool, Hermione mentally tallied up the remaining. There were three pairs of students left.

"Mister Nott and Miss Cabbott." Hermione watched Nott slump his shoulders before directing her gaze to the other half of the Cabbott twins. The curly haired witch squinted as she observed her, noticing she hadn't moved from taking notes. Her composure stood out from the rest of the class which was demonstrating signs of restlessness. Hermione glanced at the clock. Class should have ended eight minutes ago.

"Alright, alright settle down. We're almost done. Just the final few now."

Four, to be exact. She bit her lip in anticipation, for she was one of the few who had yet to be called.

"Miss Lovegood—"

Yes! Luna. Pair me with Luna.

"—you will be paired with Mister Scamander."

Not Luna.

"—and I believe that leaves us with—"

She felt Ginny shift beside her. She turned her head to look into wary eyes.

No...

 _No_.

"—Mister Malfoy and Miss Granger—"

As soon as the words left his mouth, everything came to a halt.

Professor Slughorn was still talking. Likely providing more details on the assignment but her ears stopped listening. Almost in slow motion, Hermione looked past Ginny so that her incredulous, brown eyes met the displeased, silver ones two seats away.

_Absolutely not._

Blaise was startled from stillness as the quill in Draco's hand suddenly snapped, the sound resonating through the silent classroom.

Hermione realized the reality of his words had hit everyone like a wave. A progressive wave that caused all the students in the room to turn their heads to where they sat in the middle of the classroom. She didn't even notice when Professor Slughorn had stopped talking. She assumed it happened around the same time when everyone stopped paying attention to him and shifted to her and her... _partner._

The other occupants of the room could only sit in suspense while watching the pair glare hexes at one another, afraid any sudden movement would set off a spontaneous duel.

Ginny sank lower into her seat as she murmured. "Well, this year is certainly off to a good start…"


	8. The Compromise

Ch.7: The Compromise

"But Professor—" Hermione pleaded, more so out of frustration than desperation this time.

Once Professor Slughorn had finished providing the details of their assignment, the majority of occupants stood to exit the classroom as she remained seated in hopes of getting a chance to convince her potions professor he made an awful mistake. Maintaining her composure was proving to be a challenge due to the fact that he hadn't bothered to acknowledge her since she approached his desk. Her eyes followed his movements as he attempted to organize the clutter on his desk. She deduced he was trying to avoid the conversation given that he was repeating his motions and placing papers in seemingly random places.

He grabbed the stack of books on his desk before acknowledging her. "I am sorry Miss Granger, but my hands are tied at the moment and my decision is final. Mind you, the sorting was actually quite a meticulous process and I would prefer to avoid having to reassign you all again." He turned around to put away the books in their proper slots on the shelf behind his chair.

Her brow furrowed. He had mentioned they were paired by their work ethic and academic history though she failed to see how. Judging from the overall looks he got when he announced the pairs, it seemed she was in the majority who felt he matched up students so that they would inevitably fail.

It was reminiscent of something Professor Snape would have done.

Hermione shook her head to rid herself of any lingering thoughts of their late potions teacher and focused on the task at hand. "If I may be frank Professor, the pairings you selected appear to be spontaneous and completely erratic. I don't see how—" She paused when he whipped around only to hold up a finger as a polite means of silencing her.

"I can assure you my dear, they aren't. Not in the slightest." He said gravely, his finger shook as he emphasized his point. He lowered his hand and turned to resume his previous task. "The pairing selections were done with the impression of what you would call 'shuffling things up a bit.'"

"By pairing those who are distinctly incompatible?" She asked.

"By pairing those who could use a reason to cooperate and look past childhood grievances." He attested.

Hermione's jaw went slack.

He half-turned to face her, a grim smile present. "I am well aware of why you desire a change in partners, Miss Granger. I don't know all the details of this rivalry between you and Mister Malfoy but blood purity is a trait most pureblood families take great pride in. The Malfoys are notorious for their credence."

"Then why on Earth would you put us together? He detests me...he has for a long time."

His eyes flickered with confusion before they settled. "Be as it may, the Headmistress wanted to promote intermingling between the houses and I fully support her idea."

He had a fair point. McGonagall had mentioned there would be changes to emphasize the unity within the school. What better way to demonstrate it than by pairing a Gryffindor and a Slytherin together? Not to mention a pair with a repugnant history as long standing and convoluted as theirs.

"I agree, it's a wonderful idea—" Actually, it was an ingenious idea...except the mere thought of working with him made something deep within her churn. "—but there has to be a more suitable arrangement for this assignment."

"I don't see how that would be the case. Everyone has been assigned a partner and have probably already started discussing details of the assignment."

Hermione briskly dug through her brain to conjure any other option. She only came up with one.

"What if I elect to do this on my own?" She offered.

He shook his head. "That wouldn't be appropriate. The point of the assignment is to understand how the collaboration of two people affect the outcome of a potion. Not to mention it would leave Mister Malfoy without a partner."

Hermione retracted as she considered his words. It would appear she didn't have another option.

"I understand."

"I am sorry, my dear. But I highly suggest you try look past your differences with Mister Malfoy and find a way to make this work. Now off you go." he waved her dismissively.

She trudged out of the classroom sheepishly with her bag and list of potions in hand to where Malfoy stood outside, perched against the wall with his arms crossed.

"Given that depressing look on your face, I take it the old codger isn't budging," he drawled.

"No, unfortunately." She shook her head in exasperation. "He is out of his mind for paring us together."

He scoffed to indicate his displeasure. "Don't think I'm pleased about this either, Granger."

"I don't see _you_ trying to talk to him."

"Begging isn't exactly my thing," he remarked, eyeing her pointedly.

 _Pompous_ _git._

She sighed deeply as she reminded herself of exactly who she was trying to reason with. "Then we'll have to get along for the sake of the assignment and tolerate each other for the time being."

It was only Monday.

Of the second week of school.

_Fantastic._

His handsome face contorted, as if the mere thought sickened him. "On second thought, begging doesn't sound too awful—" he shifted in the direction of the classroom but was held in place by a hand latched onto his arm.

"Wait."

He looked down slowly, looking first at her hand and then directly at her, his eyes narrowed suspiciously. She quickly retracted her hand, horrified with herself.

She cleared her throat uncomfortably and trusted her voice not to waiver. "The way I see it, there is no other option. Like it or not, we are stuck with each other." She subconsciously put her hands on her hips as she spoke. As if she were reprimanding a child...or lecturing Harry and Ron. "I want high marks in this class and I _will_ do whatever it takes to get them. Even if it means putting up with you."

A malicious grin crept its way onto his face, inadvertently sending chills down her spine. "How noble of you, Granger. Such a sacrifice you're making by putting up with me. But do you know of any qualities that make a person willing to put up with someone as intolerable as you?"

She huffed a laugh. "Oh, _I'm_ intolerable—"

"Not to mention aggravating, swotty—" he continued with ease.

"You did not just—"

"Bossy—"

"You loathsome _cad_ —" she half-shouted.

"On second thought, I'll answer for you," he said while grinning mercilessly. "There are none."

She rubbed her temples to impede her oncoming headache and breathed deeply to calm her rampant pulse before feigning sympathy. "Well, I'm sorry you feel that way. Unfortunately for you, I made an agreement with McGonagall and I don't plan to disappoint her. I highly suggest you do the same."

His smirk dropped as his eyes darkened. She then realized she made it known that she was aware vaguely of his own deals he made with their headmistress. Deciding it would be best to change the subject matter, she reverted back to their original topic.

"Professor Slughorn said the results of the potion will be dependent on our cooperation so it would probably be in our best interest that whatever potion we decide on doing—"

"Sana Vulnere."

"—be relatively simple...wait...what did you say?" She looked at him. He pulled back into himself. His face was devoid of any emotion.

"Sana Vulnere," he repeated slowly. "It's meant to—"

"I know what it does. Slughorn would never approve of that potion and there's no way it is even on this list—" she flipped through the pages haphazardly.

"Except that you'll find that it is." he watched her frantic movements, eyes glinting with a tinge of amusement. "Last page."

She flopped the stack over and turned the last page. He was right. There it was, printed in ink, taunting her with its presence.

The last potion on the list.

"Absolutely not."

The blond let a sharp, barking scoff escape. "There's just no satisfying you, is there? You said we needed to pick a potion. I picked." He looked down at his watch.

She continued to flip through the list as she countered obnoxiously. "If you had heard what I was saying, I very clearly stated something _simple_. There has to be something reasonable on this list—"

She welcomed any alternatives and recited a few she deemed to be acceptable. He didn't pay her any mind for his attention was focused elsewhere.

"Malfoy, are you listening to me?" She asked, beginning to read the list for the second time.

"I have to go." she heard him say.

She looked up to see him rummaging through his satchel to extract a book and closed the flap.

"Wait, we have to talk about the potion." She said though his noticeably frantic pace didn't change.

"We can talk later." He turned to walk away.

"Malfoy—"

" _Later._ " He said curtly as he strode off down the hall before she could get another word in.

She shook her head disbelieving. Not only was she stuck with someone nearly impossible to work with, he had decided on one of the most challenging potions known to make. The fact that he knew of the potion came rather shocking to her. Maybe he had a point that she was used to picking up the slack of others. After all, she had never really been with someone who pushed her limits. She supposed if there was anyone to so, it would be him.

She looked down at her own watch, wincing as the headache settled in.

She was late for her next class.

* * *

Ginny next saw Hermione nose deep in a book at her usual spot in the library later that evening.

"How did it go?" She asked as she approached the bookworm.

"Unsuccessful. Slughorn isn't changing his mind." Exhaustion evident in her tone. Whether it was from the mental stress of the day or researching the potion her partner had selected, she wasn't sure. Hermione looked down at her watch, realizing it was close to curfew.

"So what now?"

Hermione shut the book. "Now? I prepare myself to meet up with Malfoy."

"Seriously?" Ginny asked as Hermione stood and pushed her chair under the table. She grabbed her items as they prepared to head back to the dormitories.

"I don't have a choice. I'm stuck with him so now I'm in here reading up on the potion he picked."

"You've already selected a potion? You're already further along than Zabini and I. He suggested we conjure a draught of liquid luck, take it, and let the rest happen on its own."

Hermione halted in her step as she stared at Ginny. "I...I don't even know what to say to that."

Ginny sighed. "Yes. I too, had the same reaction. So be grateful."

The two continued their trek and turned the corner.

"Maybe I would be if he hadn't insisted on doing one of the most complicated potions known to create."

"Don't you normally love that sort of thing?"

"Normally, yes. Not when the result of the potion is dependent on how we work together."

"Fair point. Maybe it won't be so bad. Which potion is it?"

"Sana Vulnere," she said.

Ginny frowned. "What is that?"

"It's a healing potion. One of the only potions known to eradicate even the deepest and oldest of wounds." Hermione opened the book to the page she was on, the only page providing vague details of the potion.

"Then why haven't I heard of it?"

"While it is proven to be a very useful potion, it has only been made correctly a number of times. As a result, there are only a few works written about it."

"How many?"

"Eight that have been documented. This book has the most recent one."

When Ginny didn't respond, Hermione turned her head to catch the full expression of shock she displayed.

"Like I said," she sighed, riddled with exhaustion. "He picked a complicated potion."

She opened the book as they walked and reviewed the ingredient list.

"Sounds like you have your work cut out for you." Ginny smirked.

"Well, well—" Blaise exclaimed while stepping between the girls and wrapping his arms around their shoulders. "If it isn't my two favorite Gryffindors."

"Zabini." Hermione acknowledged, closing the book shut. "I heard of your _genius_ plot for the assignment."

"Brilliant, isn't it? Potions was never my best subject but I can conjure liquid luck all day. I gather it would give us wondrous results."

Ginny rolled her eyes at him, amused. "That will be our back up plan."

"If you say so, Weasley. What about you, Granger? Two potions masters paired together? I'm sure you have come up with something good." He asked with a hint of curiosity.

"Honestly Zabini, I don't know how you do it." Hermione admitted.

He cocked his head at her. "Do what?"

"How you're willing be friends with someone like—"

"Fraternizing with the enemy, Blaise?" A sneer came from behind them. Hermione could already feel the agitation beginning to creep up as they turned to see Malfoy striding towards them with Theo.

"On the contrary, I'm fraternizing with my lovely potions _partner_ , Draco." He grinned smugly.

"How comforting to see your standards are as mediocre as ever." he remarked lazily. Ginny only rolled her eyes at him.

Blaise snorted, "No need to be a twat, mate. I'll still have time for you." he patted Malfoy on the cheek, grinning while Theo laughed.

Hermione darted her eyes between them, bewildered. The dynamic between the trio was odd, no doubt. She often wondered if people thought the same of her, Harry and Ron when they snuck around and constantly broke the rules for Harry's benefit. Though that was not at the forefront of her mind. He had insulted her friend and she was not going to stand for that.

Hermione's mouth took action before her brain could stop it. "Are you going to apologize?"

She was surprised when all of the attention shifted to her instantly. She didn't pay them any mind, only concentrated on the silver eyes that became narrow slits under his furrowed brow as he examined her.

"I don't believe anyone asked for your opinion, Granger." His face contorted to his signature smirk and insult at the edge of his tongue. For some reason, it was almost reassuring to see him make that expression again.

Almost.

The brunette's nostrils flared as she stared the blond down. "No one asked for yours either. What you just said about Ginny was uncalled for and unnecessary—"

"Oh, like half the things you feel the need to bring up during class." His shoulders stiffened when she prompted an enraged step towards him.

"Whoa, whoa," Theo held his hands up as an attempt to calm down the irate couple. "Let's not get carried away here."

"Stay out of this, Nott." She demanded.

"For once, I agree with the swot." Malfoy retorted airily.

"Wow. That's big of you." She commented. She turned her head when Blaise stifled a laugh.

"Okay, gross. Grow up, the lot of you." She said pointedly at the grinning males of the group.

"Coming from the immature one." Malfoy quipped.

"How am I being immature?!" Hermione demanded.

"You're having a literal tantrum because things aren't going your way—" he started.

"You broke your quill—" She gritted angrily.

"And you never listen when you need to—"

"You're the one who isn't listening, Malfoy. We _cannot_ do this potion." She stated with finality.

Silence passed as he breathed heavily. "Would you all mind giving us a moment alone?" He asked calmly, his eyes never leaving hers when he raised the question. Blaise and Theo glanced at each other and walked on without another word. Ginny, however, did not budge.

"That includes you as well." He shifted his eyes to the redhead, the threat never leaving his gaze.

"You're insane if you think I'm leaving her alone with you." Ginny glared at him. The blond opened his mouth to retort though Hermione quickly intervened.

"Ginny, it's alright. I won't be long. I'll meet you in the common room."

Ginny walked away reluctantly. He waited a few beats before speaking again.

"I take it you looked up the details of the potion." His eyes flickered to the book in her arms.

"Of course I did. And my answer is still no."

"I didn't realize I had phrased it as a question."

"You didn't. This is me declining your proposition."

He chuckled darkly. Hermione's eyes flashed with suspicion. "Why must you be so _fucking_ difficult." he said exasperatedly.

Ignoring his commentary, she continued. "I'm not even sure why he approved for this potion to be put on the list! It would take longer than one term to brew," she tried. "We wouldn't even be able to turn it in on time. Not to mention the scrupulous precautions, the timing, the demanding ingredient list—did you even see half of the things it required?"

He rolled his eyes, impatient. "Hardly sounds like a challenge for someone who successfully brewed polyjuice potion their second year."

"Malfoy, polyjuice potion has been in textbooks for centuries. This potion has only been made successfully a number of times with limited information on the results." she couldn't believe the nonchalance he was giving her. It seemed no matter what she said, he wasn't taking no for an answer.

His smile didn't reach his eyes. "I can't believe this. You're choosing _now_ to doubt yourself?"

"It's not my abilities that I have doubts of." she admitted.

Malfoy merely looked at her, pursing his lips. "We've been through this, I'm decent at potions. We have nothing to—"

"I don't mean you specifically," she clarified. "I'm referring to _us_. As a couple." she stated firmly. His eyes flashed. Realizing the suggestion in her wording, she quickly changed it. "I-I mean as partners. As Two. Individual. People assigned to work together." She stuttered. While he was caught off guard, he didn't show any evident disgust in his expression, she noted.

"This potion requires a team who can work together and trust each other. Not sure if you've noticed, we don't exactly fall in that category."

He continued to watch her curiously.

"What?"

He shrugged his shoulders. "I'm surprised. I've always figured you assumed everyone around you to be an idiot." She opened her mouth to protest, but caught the twinkle of amusement in his eye. Realizing he was toying with her, she held her tongue.

"Granger, you're not the only one who has to maintain high marks. I chose to come back for a reason—ah, ah—" he held up his hand when she opened her mouth to speak.

"I can already see the accumulation of questions you're just _dying_ to let loose. I am not going to explain myself to you. But, I too, will do what it takes to succeed in this class."

She had to admit his ambition was comparable to hers, willing to do anything no matter the difficulty to see the desired results. The drive to succeed was an addiction. An addiction she was all too familiar with. Who was she to disagree?

She nodded absentmindedly.

His eyes faltered, almost as if he were disappointed that she agreed so easily without much of a fight. "We will meet tomorrow night. I'm afraid any other time will require further notice."

Her expression was incredulous. "You're telling me I have to essentially schedule appointments with you in order to work on the largest project of our academic career."

"How else would I get anything done?" He countered simply.

His tone was nothing short of condescending. She clenched her fists to refrain from punching him in the face. Again.

_Do it for the grade, Hermione. Be the better person._

She huffed and smiled brightly.

Too brightly.

"Yes, I'm available. So long as you don't bail when you realize who it is you're working with."

She saw it again. That flash of uncertainty.

She was truly losing it.

"Tomorrow night, then?"

He nodded, avoiding eye contact. "The library. After dinner." He emphasized.

"The library." It sounded like a question.

"Yes, the library. You know? Your place of worship?"

"I've never had...neither Ron nor Harry would ever suggest the library on their own free will." she admitted.

"I think you'll come to find that I'm quite different from your friends." he sneered and turned to leave.

She stood in place, realizing she never confronted him about the brew specifically. "Why Sana Vulnere?" she asked.

He halted in his step.

When he didn't immediately answer, she continued. "Or more specifically, why would you want to do this particular potion when you're stuck with _me_?"

"I've told you before, your brilliance is the bane of my existence." He answered though he stayed turned away from her. She knew what that meant. The same as it did the first time he said it. If she wanted answers, she was going to have to figure it out for herself.

"I—" She stopped when he finally saw it fit to turn and walked back towards her. She became acutely aware of every inch of distance lost as he approached her, stopping no more than a few feet away. He towered over her with his tall, lean build.

"If you're trying to fight me on this again, I will remind you I selected a potion that is used to counteract dark magic. I didn't ask you to help me create a curse or poison." That mischievous grin grew on his face again. Though instead of being insulted, she couldn't help but feel like he was testing her.

"Unless you don't think you can handle it." he asked lowly.

Hermione blinked. "Excuse me?"

He shrugged his shoulders. "You said earlier you didn't have doubts in your abilities. Surely some of your hesitance has something to do with it, doesn't it? The lack of books written about it means you can't solely depend on reciting directly from them. Has the Golden girl met her match? Has she finally reached her limits?" He edged closer as he watched her, eyes flitting between hers in search for something.

"Maybe they were wrong about you after all." He concluded with a condescending smirk.

Moments passed as Hermione thought over his words, her gaze directed at the floor. The war and her failed relationship with Ron had affected her in a way she wasn't aware of until now. She had become more precautious. More defensive. Now, Malfoy was openly taunting her and she'd had enough.

He turned to leave just as she spoke, her voice laced with a confident edge.

"I don't care how bloody hard it is, Malfoy." She didn't need to look up to know he was watching her.

Empty, grey eyes coldly calculating her.

"I will do this potion with you. Under these conditions," She emphasized. "One, you will not insult my friends in front of me _."_ Her eyes snapped up to meet his. "Two, I will refrain from snapping at you every second so long as you agree to not be a massive prick." His pale eyebrows shot up. "—and three, you won't _dare_ to underestimate me again. I am capable of damn near anything and I don't need to prove myself to you. I will agree to uphold my part in making this potion as long as you are willing to do the same. Any questions?"

She exhaled as she stared him down, her chest heaving. She was surprised to see his eyes drifting over her face curiously as a smirk formed across his lips.

He almost looked...impressed.

"And Blaise thought you were losing your backbone."

Hermione blinked as a blush spread on her cheeks, warming her face. She didn't know whether to feel proud or worried to have received such a compliment from him.

"I'll see you tomorrow, Granger." he confirmed as he adjusted the strap of his bag on his shoulder. He turned to walk off, making it only three steps before he paused and inclined his head slightly in her direction. "I accept your conditions." She nodded firmly and he resumed his stride.

Her eyes continued to follow his retreating figure until he turned the corner, out of her sight.


	9. The Obligation

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello all! I realize this update is a bit delayed. The world has changed quite a bit in the past couple of months and I hope you all are coping and doing as best as you can to stay safe and well.
> 
> Just as an FYI, I do work in healthcare and with the recent development, my updates may end up being more sporadic. However, reading fiction is an wonderful pastime for those participating in social distancing so please enjoy!

Ch.8: The Obligation

**September 8, 1998**

He was already in the library by the time she arrived.

Pervaded with anticipation, Hermione stood motionless several book stacks away from where he sat. He had placed himself at the table she typically occupied across from her usual seat of choice. From where she stood, she could see a wide array of books splayed out on the table in front of him. It was refreshing to witness him as an average student as opposed to the tyrant she typically saw him as.

Shortly after she stumbled upon him, it suddenly dawned on her that they never discussed a specific area or section to meet in the substantially sized space. Without giving it a second thought, her instinct had told her to head for her usual spot in the library. This brought forth a slew of new questions.

_Why didn't they think to discuss something as simple as selecting a spot?_

_Did he know this was her preferred spot the first time he sought her out?_

_Was she so transparent that even he as someone who detested her knew where to find her?_

_...why was she still hiding behind a bookshelf?_

In hopes of ceasing the exponential build up of apprehension, she took a breath to calm herself and walked up to the table with the residual adrenaline. She set her bag on the chair across him, keeping focus on unpacking her items so as to not let her eyes drift to the other occupant only a few feet away.

"You're late," she heard him say flatly.

Hermione had just set down her notebook when she finally jerked her head up to look at him. He hadn't made any movements or changes in posture. His head stayed down as he continued to jot down notes with what appeared to be a brand new quill.

Deciding it would be best to refrain from any witty remarks, she went with the safer approach. "You said 'after dinner,'" she said simply as she resumed unpacking her items. The hall wasn't even half empty when she left it.

"I did," he said simply. "Had I known you were the slowest eater in the school, I would have designated a time instead."

She held her tongue as she tried to conjure up a proper response but her brain wanted to pull focus elsewhere. Now that she thought about it, she did not recall seeing him in the hall during dinner. With his robe hanging on the back of his chair along with the growing pile of used parchment by his feet, she came to the conclusion he had been here a while.

Hermione knew she should have settled into her seat to partake working on their assignment but she couldn't help but let her curiosity take the lead as her eyes trailed along his form. While taking in his appearance, recalling when she noted earlier that he wasn't quite as thin as before. Now that he was clad in an oxford shirt and trousers, she could see he was still considerably slimmer than she recalled him being when they began their sixth year. The fact that he had grown significantly taller in the last few years didn't do him any favors. His lanky build seemingly made him tower over her even though he was a little over half a head taller in reality—

"You can gawp later Granger, we have work to do." he stated crudely, a hint of a smirk in his tone as he finally looked up to acknowledge her.

"How long have you been here?" She blurted, her mind suddenly on overdrive and too unsettled to feel the least bit embarrassed by her blatant staring. She could see his eyebrows furrow with uncertainty.

"A few hours. What does that—"

"Have you eaten anything?" She asked.

He snorted, an act far unlike a gentleman. He paused his writing and looked back up to meet her gaze. "You're serious."

When she placed her hands on her hips with a raised brow, he let out a deep, impatient sigh.

"No, I haven't," he answered.

She opened her mouth to argue but was quickly cut short.

"—not that it's any of your concern." He said dismissively and resumed writing, though slightly more aggressively.

"It's an innocent question, Malfoy. You don't always have to be on your guard."

He scoffed, "I came straight here after class and lost track of time. Any more nonsensical questions?" He knew he was going to regret his words as soon as they left his mouth.

She always had more questions.

"Now that you mention it, I was curious about something." She pretended to contemplate while eyeing a bright green object on the table.

He rubbed his forehead to smooth his brow, clearly exasperated. "Spit it out, then. I don't have all evening."

"I wanted to know what all you were planning on having for dinner." She asked plainly.

His eyes narrowed suspiciously. "Why?"

Hermione shrugged apathetically, deciding to play aloof to his defensiveness. "No particular reason."

He raised a brow at her, unconvinced.

She carried a light expression, "I was going to suggest, perhaps you should consider eating more than an apple. You're probably starving." Her eyes flickered to the one sitting on the table in front of him before continuing to shuffle through her bag.

He flushed as his stomach grumbled. Vaguely amused, Hermione watched as he reached for the apple to tuck it into the pocket of his robes. She heard him clear his throat uncomfortably, "If you're done criticizing my eating habits, I think we should begin. Seeing as we need to pick up the slack from you being late—"

She gasped as she remembered something, "Hang on a moment. I need to see if the library has a book I've been looking for."

He watched her incredulously. " _Now_?"

"Yes! Professor Grubbly-Plank's essay is due at the end of this week and I need that book."

Malfoy looked at her quizzically. "Her essay isn't due until next Friday."

"Not the one on fairy dust, I completed that one this morning." She flushed as he continued to stare at her. Likely because that essay in particular was assigned only yesterday. She cleared her throat awkwardly. "I'm talking about the extra credit assignment. I've been checking periodically for a novel on dragon's blood but it's still not available."

He continued to blink at her and opened his mouth to speak but was cut off by her nervous rambling.

"I know it's not required reading but given the topic, I felt it would be beneficial to provide answers the class's textbook is unable to. The size section dedicated to dragons is rather futile."

"You're wasting your time." Malfoy said sharply, leaving only the sound of him shuffling around in his satchel to fill the otherwise silent library.

"I only need a few minutes to see if the book is available—" He shook his head, interrupting. She stopped mid-sentence when he pulled out a book and slid it across the table to her.

Her eyes fell to read the title:

_The Composition of Dragon's Blood_

She merely stared at the book before flickering her eyes back up to him. He watched her expectantly with his arms crossed. "It's what you're looking for, is it not?"

She sat still in disbelief. "I...yes, it is..." she said, slowly.

"Well? Are you going to take the damn thing or not?" he snapped.

Immediately, she went to grab the book and marveled at it. At least she found the culprit who had been reserving the supplemental readings before her.

She eyed him carefully as he continued to research the potion, as if the last five minutes had not occurred. "Can I thank you for this?"

His lips twitched as he began to read an opened textbook in front of him. "You can try."

"Thank you for the book. That was very kind of you." She said, soft-spoken and sincere.

"Don't mention it." He said curtly before continuing to read, ultimately ending their conversation.

As she put the book away and finally took her seat, Hermione considered the scenario presented to her. It would be quite an impressive and remarkable feat for the two of them if they were able to overcome their differences, even if only to concoct this potion. Not to mention if they were actually successful in making one that worked. She already knew he was capable academically and was currently proving himself to be devoted to his decision. If witnessing him as an ex-death eater had taught her anything, it was that he didn't take the choices he made lightly. He accepted the challenges that were ahead and dealt with them accordingly as part of the process.

It was everything she could want in a partner.

Maybe they had a chance after all.

"Alright," she began. "We'll need to find the reference on the first time it was successfully made—"

"Here." He tapped on the spine of another text while his eyes stayed focused on his current reading.

She eyed him warily, grabbing the book without another word. They read together in silence as they collected information from their respective books. Hermione flipped through the first book, only finding a brief analysis on the significance of each ingredient. She moved on to the next book. The ingredient list was consistent, though this time the entry emphasized the efficacy of commencing in autumn with its cooler evenings.

 _What convenient timing_ , she thought.

She jotted down several notes from each of the attempts. She also noticed they all consistently had a quote placed in the beginning:

_To produce a potion of purity and light, one must begin on the darkest of nights._

By the time she finished with the seventh entry, Hermione had a stack of parchment comparable to his. Surveying the collective information she had obtained, she spoke up as she did the math.

"So we'll need to start with a petroleum base and a French copper cauldron. With our current atmospheric pressure, we need melt it at a low heat of 38°C followed by the addition of eagle owl feather fibers and moly petals—"

*clink*

*clink*

He had deposited two vials in front of her. One containing two eagle owl feathers and the other a moly, freshly picked.

She looked at them, disbelieving.

"You were taking too long." He shrugged his shoulders, sounding quite pleased with himself.

She huffed, unsure of whether she should be annoyed or impressed. "Clearly you've done your research. What do you even need me for?"

"The eighth entry," he said, contempt as he handed her the textbook. "It has the most information of them all but it would take me weeks to read because it's entirely encoded in numbers." His eyes gleamed with something when she showed a hint of delight. "Rumour has it you actually fancy arithmancy."

"It's my favorite subject," she clarified as she began the decoding process.

He looked utterly repulsed. "What an awful thing to say."

"What do you have against arithmancy?" She knew most did not favor the subject but she had mostly heard from Harry and Ron of their displeasure towards most all of their classes. She couldn't help but wonder about his thoughts on the class.

"It's a useful subject in cases like this but whoever willingly subjects themselves to such a tedious and repetitive technique has too much time on their hands. Even muggles have those ridiculous...button-y devices for convenience."

She whipped her head to him. "You mean calculators?"

"Yes. Such strange contraptions..." he mumbled.

Wide brown eyes stared at him in shock. "How do you know about—"

"We should find a good location to start," he briskly interrupted her. "Can't imagine Madam Pince would appreciate us lighting a fire in here."

She looked at him strangely. "Probably not."

His attempt to avoid the subject completely didn't go unnoticed. She decided to go along with it for the moment since he brought up a fair point. It was definitely something worth inquiring about at a later date.

"Did you have a place in mind?" She evaluated the script she had already decrypted from the first page. This wizard in particular made note of the increments of time between when ingredients were added. First, the gap was two weeks. Then it was four weeks in the following additions.

How odd...

He shook his head. "Not yet. But the sooner we start, the better. This entire operation is going to take up a considerable amount of time."

Hermione observed him as he began to collect his belongings, deducing he fully intended to leave the library to find a more suitable location to start their potion.

"You want to start _now_?" She asked, bewildered.

"Why not? It's raining tonight. I'd say it's about as dark of evening as we'll get." He stated evenly.

Also a fair point.

"But—we don't even have a cauldron!" She argued.

"I have one," he said, gesturing to his bag. "I asked Professor Slughorn for one earlier. How long will it take for you to decipher that book?" He asked seriously. His face was devoid of humor, awaiting for her answer. Her mouth was slightly agape at his eagerness. She did say she would uphold her part as long as he was willing to do the same. Who was she to disagree on getting an early start?

"Not long," she admitted while flipping through the pages. Thankfully, there weren't too many. "An entire evening at most."

"In the meantime, we should discuss an area to set up. We'll need someplace quiet where we won't be disturbed."

Hermione thought over his words meticulously before her lips curved into a smile. "I might have a place in mind..."

He saw the glint of mischief in her eyes and instantly knew what she had in mind. He groaned. "No. Absolutely not."

* * *

Hermione sat cross-legged as she melted the petroleum base in the heating cauldron while Malfoy paced back and forth.

"Would you sit down? You're making me nervous," she sighed, frustrated.

"How do you expect me to be calm about this? I'm in the middle of a _girl's lavatory,"_ he retorted smartly.

"You're being ridiculous. No one ever comes in here so would you stop worrying and prep the ingredients like we agreed?" She insisted as politely as she could manage while focused on keeping the petroleum from burning.

"Fine." He hissed, conceding. He prepared samples of the feather and plucked a few petals of the moly, dropping them into the cauldron as she stirred.

Once he added in the ingredients, he settled into a spot by a stall to resume where she left off in the decoding process. Hermione continued to stir constantly until the fibers and petals disintegrated. Once the sediment had dissolved, she paused in her stirring and read the next instruction written in her sloppy penmanship.

_-After adding first ingredients, colors should leak. Gain a silvery hue-_

She looked back into the cauldron to observe the solution which was still clear. A few more minutes passed. Still nothing. Perplexed, she jerked her head up to inquire Malfoy, feeling a heat rise in her cheeks when she found his steely eyes already fixed on her.

Shortly after they arrived, she had put up her hair in a messy bun, something she commonly did before brewing. She had shrugged off her robes, her sleeves rolled up and shirt untucked when she sat down. Here, she was at ease. Except his eyes on her made her anything but.

"What is it?" she asked sharply, hoping she didn't come off as too defensive.

But he didn't flinch, "you've done this before—in here, I mean." He commented before turning his attention back to the parchment in his hand. "Explains how you got away with making Polyjuice potion all those years ago," a knowing smirk present on his face.

She frowned as she was suddenly thrown back to their conversation from yesterday. Hermione replayed it in her mind until she reached the point that stood out to her.

_Hardly sounds like a challenge for someone who successfully brewed Polyjuice potion their second year._

The year her and her friends tried to infiltrate and interrogate him by impersonating his loyal companions. The night they tried to get information regarding the chamber of secrets, believing him to be the heir of Slythern. The night that landed her in the hospital for a week coughing up hairballs. The night they failed...and he knew about it.

"You knew," she whispered.

He remained unphased.

"How?"

He rolled his eyes at her. "Why do you and your friends act so surprised when people figure out what you're up to? You're not exactly discreet."

"But you knew even then?"

"I had my suspicions. Goyle was wearing the same, dumb glasses as Potter and Crabbe nearly tore my face off for insulting you. I wasn't sure how you did it until I learned about Polyjuice a few months later."

Hermione contemplated his words. That led to the question of how he knew they managed to brew Polyjuice. It was a potion they weren't even supposed to learn until they had reached the advanced classes.

"And yes, I know you brewed it. Aside from the fact those two oafs couldn't brew a potion successfully to save their lives, a little birdie confirmed the details for me. I spoke to Elizabeth rather frequently sixth year," he revealed.

Hermione wrinkled her nose. "Elizabeth?"

Malfoy grinned triumphantly. "Ah, yes. I believe you lot are more familiar with 'Moaning Myrtle'?"

"Oh, Moaning Myrtle. I haven't heard from her in a while." She pondered.

"She migrated to the prefect bathroom our fourth year. She held quite the fancy for Potter, did you know?" he stated with a slightly amused smirk.

"I-no, I did not."

"She apparently has a soft spot for him," he continued. "Something about being attracted to bad boys who disobeyed the rules. I suppose it's befitting."

"If that's the case, it surprises me more that she didn't have a thing for you," she admitted, ignoring the subtle heat arising within her when she caught a hint of amusement in his eye.

"Take me to be a bad boy, Granger?" he drawled.

"Undoubtedly. But don't worry, Malfoy. Bad boys aren't really my type," she stated, a flicker of teasing in her tone.

A haughty laugh escaped him. "Coming from the girl who let Viktor bloody Krum take her to the Yule Ball."

She blushed furiously, "It was a phase! And he was nothing but a gentleman all evening," she said, stubbornly.

He spoke dismissively as he turned his attention back to the parchment in his lap. "I figured as much, given the fact that you decided to settle for the safest option of them all."

His words hit her harder than she expected. She knew he didn't mean it in the way she took it but she couldn't help it. She felt her suppressed anger beginning to accumulate.

"Stop talking," she whispered softly.

"I was only kidding," he began, completely apathetic. "Who cares if you're with a simpleton—"

"I said _shut up_ , Malfoy." she hissed aggressively.

Promptly, he closed his mouth and looked up from his notes to examine her. At this point, Hermione was fuming. The curls of hair that didn't make it into her bun lazily caressed her cheeks, highlighting her display of fury.

He had made it this far without insulting her friends but even he could tell this was much more than that. This was something she had been avoiding to acknowledge for weeks and here he was, throwing it in her face, reminding her of her failed relationship and potentially broken friendship. It was too soon.

Far too soon.

She knew that in a way, he was right. She would've been on the verge of settling for her best friend if she hadn't come here.

_We both know you want more than what I can give you._

But that was besides the point. She knew Ron loved her and in the end, that should have been enough...right?

"I have to go." She stated as she threw her belongings into her bag, refusing to break down in front of him.

He narrowed his eyes at her frantic movements and her sudden acts of defense. She quickly stood and made way to bolt out the door, only pausing when she heard the low rumble of his voice.

"Whatever it is...you will have to accept at some point."

She breathed deeply and walked out with her bag and robes in tow, leaving him behind without another word.

Meanwhile in the background, their once clear potion had turned black.

* * *

**September 11, 1998**

"Hermione, if you don't work with him, your grade will suffer."

"Leave it alone, Ginny. I will deal with him when the time comes but right now, I need to figure out what went wrong with our potion," Hermione stated firmly as she flipped through the medley of books.

The brunette had returned to the lavatory the following day only to find their potion in an obsolete stage. Determined to uncover what went wrong, Hermione continued the process of decoding the eighth entry, hoping it would supply helpful clues or answers. Similarly to what she originally told Malfoy, it only took her a few hours to decode it but it didn't provide as much assistance as she hoped. It mainly restated what they already deduced with an emphasis on an "intangible ingredient".

Thus bringing her back to the library in the middle of her free period with Ginny currently reprimanding her for avoiding her potions partner whenever possible. She decided she was not ready to face having to explain the reason for her sudden outrage to him and she certainly wasn't ready to explain it to Ginny.

Her tired eyes shifted along the text, reading the same words for the third time today.

"What's going on?" Luna asked as she approached the table with her homework.

"Hermione refuses to talk about why she's upset at Malfoy."

"Because it's not important. I told you to leave it alone." Hermione snapped.

Ginny held her hands up in defense. "I'm just saying. Maybe it didn't work because you two still have animosity towards each other. Professor Slughorn did say the point of this potion was to show how having two people would impact a potion."

"I'm well aware of that, Ginny and I've already told you, I know that was a factor. But before that, we were fine. For once, we weren't hostile towards each other. After we added the first ingredients, it was supposed to transition into a silver hue and it never did. We did something wrong."

 _There has to be a pattern_ , she thought critically. She took location into account.

The information provided only stated where the majority of brewing took place and was completed. The first and third were brewed on the rooftops of abandoned buildings. The second and fifth were done on balconies. The fourth, sixth and eighth were done in average rooms. She flipped open her notebook to where she recorded the dates:

September 6th, 1945

September 11th, 1950

September 26th, 1973

Nothing was adding up.

"Don't worry, Hermione. I'm sure it will all work out in the end." She heard Luna comment reassuringly. Hermione knew they were trying to be helpful but what she really needed at the moment was for them to let her concentrate.

"Luna, I really appreciate it but—" She froze.

_Luna._

She looked for her notes regarding the latest successful brew dated in 1978. Much like the others, the author's entries were vague and lacked detail but unlike the others, this one included inquiries where after several years of trial and error, the author concluded the potion required an ingredient that was intangible. At the end of the entry, the same quote was repeated:

_To start with a potion of light, one must begin with on darkest of nights._

Then it clicked.

Since they were conveniently located in the reference section, Hermione stood and walked a few feet over, her eyes searching the shelves.

"Hermione—" she heard Ginny speak followed by a _shush_ from Luna.

" _Give her a moment_ _,_ " she heard her say quietly.

Hermione smiled to herself, grateful for the welcomed silence. Her eyes continued to graze until she found what she was looking for. She pulled a book from the shelf and walked back over to where Ginny and Luna sat. She flipped open to various pages, her alert brown eyes fluttering back and forth between the dates and the reference pages. By the time she finished, she was beaming.

"I have to find Malfoy." She grabbed her papers with urgency.

Ginny was incredulous while Luna smiled. "Really? That's all it took?"

Hermione ignored her and continued to shove her books in her bag. "I need to discuss the assignment with him. I know why our potion failed."

* * *

She paced down the hallway after glancing after watch. It was just after three meaning he would be finishing up with Divination, his last class of the day. She walked around the large group of students as they poured out of the classroom. She brushed past every one of them until she found who she was looking for. A bright blond head...walking in the other direction.

"Wait!" she called as she broke into a sprint. "Malfoy, wait!"

He turned around just in time to see her halt a few feet in front of him to catch her breath.

"I have somewhere to be. Surely this can wait—" he began.

"I only need a few minutes. I think I know why our potion failed." He looked at her with peaked interest as she handed him a sheet of parchment and the newly acquired book. "It said we need to start the potion on the 'darkest of nights.'" She could see the gears turning in his head when he looked at the text she placed in his hand. It was a book containing dates of the moon phases. "The quote is referencing the eve of a new moon," she added.

He looked at her as he thought carefully, the early stages of astonishment threatening to appear on his face. "Then the timeline—"

"It's not random. The potion will take six months to complete because we need to factor in six full lunar cycles: three to construct the potion and three to let the potion rest."

"And the time increments."

"After the potion is commenced on the eve of a _new_ moon, the other ingredients must be added on the eve of a _full_ moon. "

Two weeks from the start, and four afterwards.

"We'll need to make alterations to our dates of when to meet. I suspect you can make it tomorrow night without getting distracted again?" He tested.

She rolled her eyes. "I have free time at the moment. Why not meet up now?" She offered.

He pursed his lips and took a deep breath, "as _considerate_ as that is of you Granger," he enunciated with impatience. "I'm afraid I have... _other_ obligations at the moment," he bit out.

Hermione blinked at him. For the first time today, she looked at him head on and all she saw was exhaustion. Before she could press any further, someone had rounded the corner and latched onto his arm.

" _Draco_! I've been looking everywhere for you." He winced at the painful, shrill tone.

She unknowingly narrowed her eyes at the familiar brunette clinging tightly to him. He looked like he wanted to be anywhere else but there at the moment.

"I told you I was going to be a minute." he said, clearly disgruntled.

"You were taking too long. Had I known you were going to be catching up with—" she trailed off when she fixed her eyes on his company, her eyes widening slightly.

"Granger. This is Astoria." His eyes never leaving hers. "Astoria, this is—"

"Hermione Granger. Nice to see you again." Astoria grinned.

The curly haired witch cleared her throat uncomfortably at the beady silver eyes currently casting her an accusing glare. "Yes, em...we met briefly. On the train."

"I see." His glare grew suspicious. "Anyways, we'll have to make other arrangements if tomorrow can't work."

"Tomorrow night's fine." She admitted.

"You just said—"

"I offered tonight as an alternative. I never said I couldn't do it tomorrow night," she replied easily.

He scoffed in annoyance, "must you always be such a pain in my ar— _"_

"I wasn't aware you were friends with her." Astoria quipped to effectively cut him off as she eyed Hermione up and down.

" _Friends_ is a bit of a strong word." He drawled. He turned his attention back to Hermione. "Now if you'll excuse me, I have my _other_ obligation to attend to."

"I'll see you later, alright?" he spoke to Astoria softly. Hermione furrowed her brow when he darted his eyes at her last minute. Astoria didn't seem to notice and smiled at him regardless as he walked off rather quickly, leaving the two women alone in the corridor.

"He always acts like he has something important to do."

"He has been training rather diligently for Quidditch, lately." Astoria offered. "Tryouts are next week."

Hermione knew that, of course. That was why Ginny was pressing so hard on her in the library. The stress of tryouts had not been easy on her, as of late. She mentally reminded herself to apologize to Ginny later, for only one topic occupied her thoughts at the moment.

"I wasn't aware he had a girlfriend."

"We aren't together officially just yet. Draco insisted on waiting and for me to focus on my education first. I thought it was sweet."

Hermione shook her head, puzzled. "He wants you to focus on his education before dating? That's...quite noble of him."

Astoria tilted her head at Hermione. "You misunderstand. Draco and I are to be betrothed once the school year ends."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Don't worry, I'm sure you'll be happy with me before the story ends! Stay safe, everyone! - E


	10. The Preliminaries

Ch.9: The Preliminaries

Stunned, Hermione blinked at her.

"E-excuse me?" It was official. She had spent way too much time with Malfoy and as a result, she was losing her mind. Surely, she had misheard...or both of them were playing her to be a fool.

Truthfully, she supposed anything was possible at this point.

"We're to be engaged." She repeated, the words rolling off her tongue effortlessly.

The confidence Astoria held in her statement and the tender way Malfoy looked at her prior to his parting was all Hermione needed to be convinced; she definitely heard right...and was likely still losing her mind.

"You're marrying him." Hermione stated, dumbfounded.

Astoria laughed lightheartedly as she spoke. "Eventually, yes. Unless the definition of the word has changed in the last couple of months." Her smile remained even as a line appeared between her brows.

"Though I suppose it would come as a bit of a shock if you've been spending all this time with him and he hadn't taken the time to mention it." Her tone was free of any accusation but the insinuations in her statement was enough to make Hermione become riddled with sweat. The last thing she needed was petty drama...

While maintaining her composure, the bookworm tread carefully. "We have only been spending time together because we're partners for a potions assignment and I assure you, I have never thought of him in _that_ way."

"You would be the first." Astoria noted.

Hermione wanted to laugh. Loudly. And obnoxiously.

" _Actually_?"

"You haven't noticed? I've even seen girls from Gryffindor practically throw their knickers at him for his attention." she added, disdainfully.

"Why would anyone want someone like—" Hermione paused and recalled Astoria's initial reaction when she found the two of them arguing. She didn't seem to be aware of the oppugnancy or the long standing history of resentment between them. How that was even remotely possible, she wasn't sure. She seemed to know of Hermione's blood status. Surely, she had to be aware of the hatred he held towards her sort? There was also the fact she managed to take one look at the two of them while each other's throats and assumed they were friends _._

Ultimately, she ended up taking a different route to explain before she inadvertently insulted her company's future beloved. "What I mean is... you don't have to worry about me showing any interest. We've never really gotten along. Things are certainly less tense since the war ended but even now, we're just—" she trailed off. Was it accurate to label them as enemies now? They certainly weren't _friends._ He had made it explicitly clear...

A _re you expecting us to be friends merely because we ended on the same side?_

Hermione frowned as his unwavering voice echoed along the walls of her mind.

 _Let me be clear about something_...w _e didn't win...we survived._

She hadn't realized how accurate he was until now.

"... _survivors."_

The sound of Astoria giggling took her out of her thoughts. "Salazar, you sound just as depressing as him."

She winced involuntarily. "I...honestly don't know where that came from. Regardless, our history isn't relevant. I'm sure he's a different person towards you and many happy returns. Truly, that's very exciting."

"Thank you." She beamed. Hermione internally sighed with relief. We're very happy about it."

 _At least_ _she seemed happy about it_ , she thought. Malfoy on the other hand...

Hermione hadn't seen him happy since he and the rest of the Inquisitorial Squad caught them in the room of requirement fifth year. That was the last she had seen of childish, imprudent Malfoy before he was replaced the following year with a taller, brooding version that often carried an aura of corruption wherever he went.

"Do you have a date set?" She inquired.

"Not officially. Our parents are aiming for the end of summer in 2000. Since it won't be happening for another few years, we have a contract being drawn up at the moment." Astoria clarified.

"A contract?" she pressed. For a _betrothal?_ "That seems...excessive."

"I know, it seems silly. But given the fact that I'm currently fifteen, our parents wanted to be cautious." Applying a slight emphasis on her age, she smiled warily at Hermione's mixed expression of comprehension and sympathy. She was not one to judge couples based on their age gaps. After all, Viktor had three years on her and she still let him escort her to the ball...among other things.

"It's one of the reasons why we are putting it off the engagement until the end of the year."

"I see. And you aim to plan a wedding while you are in school?"

"I wouldn't be returning next year."

She worked out the math in her head. "Aren't you only in your sixth year? Your education would be incomplete."

Astoria shook her head. "Draco and his family had the same concerns but my parents reassured them that I would be able to finish the remaining curriculum at home. Eventually they settled on this being my final year here so that I could start my lessons as quickly as possible."

"Lessons?" she echoed, confused.

"Yes. It's a common requirement in our society." Hermione swallowed the lump in her throat.

Their Pureblood society.

"The lessons are to prepare me for life as a wedded woman; mannerisms, social gatherings, expectations and such—" She explained straightforwardly while Hermione's ardor steadily evaporated.

Lessons to prepare her to be his wife...

Draco Malfoy's _wife_.

Hermione looked up when she noticed Astoria's mouth was still moving. "I should go. I'm meeting with my parents to talk more about the contract so we'll have to catch up another time. It was a pleasure seeing you again." She smiled brightly before she walked off.

Hermione stood in place, taking in all of the newly acquired information. She supposed she didn't know much about his personal life. There was always talk of him and numerous witches but nothing was ever confirmed. If anything, everyone had their suspicions of him and Pansy after he escorted her to the ball fourth year.

Purebloods had always had a more 'traditional' approach to most things which she was well aware of but never quite knew the specifics. In her mind, they were far too young. They were on the other side of a war that began long before they were born and finally had the chance to take the time to find their own place and figure out what their aspirations were. For her, it was just the beginning. Marriage seemed so far away when there was still so much she hadn't done and so much she wanted to achieve...

_It was too soon..._

* * *

**September 19, 1998**

" _Looking good, Granger."_

Hermione looked up from her spot in the stands to see a seventh year grinning at her as he flew by with his broom. She gave him a small, kind smile before turning her attention back to her book.

Outside of the time she spent in class, she found herself enjoying a series Ron had gifted her over the summer. He and Harry were nothing if not cognizant of her obsession with A. Penmenski's works as often as she mentioned him. He was a writer known for his passion and riveting redemption story lines and his latest series was no exception. 'Black Roses' was an indiscriminate tale that was sure to go down in the books as a classic as it had the ability to hook readers of all ages, even those who detested reading.

She recalled a memory from a few months when she caught Ron reading the first book one evening, claiming it fell from the shelf and was simply checking for any damages.

He was fifty pages in when she found him.

Needless to say, he ended up buying his own copy a few days later.

She was quite fond of that memory. Originally, she hadn't wanted to continue the series until the seventh book was in her possession. Since the release of his latest novel occurred this past summer while she was preoccupied with other events, she was unable to get her hands on a copy before it was sold out in every bookstore nearby. With the wizarding world in disrepair, a second publishing of the book was unlikely to occur in the near future. Deciding not to wait any longer, she picked up where she left off in the sixth book in hopes of keeping the more pleasant thoughts of Ron fresh in her mind.

On the other hand, it was the perfect reason to keep her head down while she waited and avoid any unwanted conversation—

" _Reading about the sport is not going to help you get a spot on the team, you know_ _._ "

She felt her lips twitch, eyes remaining firm as she flipped a page.

"I would never read a book on something so unimaginative and superficial," she retaliated as his footsteps approached her. "What are you doing here? Shouldn't you be out there on the field?"

_Or pestering your destined future wife...?_

"Well, I would if your friends weren't monopolizing it like they have been for the past _four_ hours." She could practically hear the knowing smirk in his voice. Instinctively, she turned her attention to the field for the first time since she sat down, only to see it was indeed overrun by her fellow Gryffindor classmates. It looked like they were in the process of wrapping things up as they were all on their feet as opposed to the usual scrimmaging on their brooms.

"Huh. Can't say that I've noticed." She stated flippantly as she shifted her attention back to her literature, refusing to give him the satisfaction.

"You don't say." She didn't have to look at him to know he was grinning smugly at her, teasing her. Hermione bit the inside of her cheek to refrain from saying something ill-advised. Like usual, she went for the topic of conversation with the least chances of receiving of push back;

"Look, if you're here to ask about the potion, I haven't forgotten about it. I've been working out the logistics and assuming you've done your part, everything should be set for tomorrow evening."

It had been a week since the day she met up with Malfoy. During their brief interaction, they constructed a new timeline as planned while he revealed he had intentions to reserve a section of the astronomy tower for them before the next new noon. After they parted ways that day, she hadn't seen much of him outside of classes due to tryouts.

Incidentally, she hadn't seen much of Ginny either.

When he didn't respond, she turned her head, looking in his direction for the first time since he approached her. He stood tall beside her, fully donned in Quidditch attire. Her eyes trailed upwards to land on his pointed face, his attentive eyes fixed on her lap until his gaze suddenly flickered to meet imploring brown. Almost in sync, they turned their respective gazes to the field, focusing their attention anywhere else.

He cleared his throat and kept his head forward. "Yes. I've done my part." He replied derisively.

She nodded slowly in acknowledgement. They let the impending silence consume them for a few moments. Then the silence got to be too much. She needed something to fill the silence. _Anything._

"I'm actually here for Ginny," she blurted. She kept her focus on the field when she felt his gaze on her again.

"Ah right. I forgot Red did mention you might be stopping by."

Her eyebrows shot up. "'Red'?"

"Yeah, the Weaselette?"

"You mean _Ginny,_ " she emphasized.

"No, I mean Red." his lips twitched upward seeing how flustered she was getting.

"You have another name you call behind her back?"

He raised a brow as if to oppose her when Ginny appeared beside her.

"Red." he addressed.

"Blondie." She responded curtly before turning her attention to the brunette between them. "Hey Hermione, glad you could make it."

Hermione's eyes nearly bugged out of her head. "Am I missing something?"

They stared at her blankly. As if nothing was out of the ordinary.

"The names," she clarified.

"Weasley failed to respond to 'Weaselette' when she nearly smacked me with her bloody bat during a practice round. So I called her 'Red', instead." He seemed proud of himself.

She, however, was unimpressed.

He shrugged. "She responded."

She turned to Ginny. "And 'Blondie'?"

"I think it's self-explanatory but you'd like an explanation, I told him his large, blond head made him an easy target. " she grinned.

"I have you know, you happen to be mocking a signature, hereditary trait of a Malfoy—"

"I'm not mocking, it's true. Your hair is blinding and your head is rather large." Ginny cut him off nonchalantly, inspecting her fingernails.

"Whatever." he scoffed, crossing his arms across his chest.

Hermione's eyes flickered between the pair. "Are you two...getting on?"

"If you could call it that," he mumbled.

"We've been practicing together in preparation for tryouts." Ginny said, ignoring him.

Hermione stared ahead as her words processed. She certainly would have remembered this conversation if it happened.

"Didn't you hear McGonagall at the start of the term?" Ginny offered. "She wanted more 'respectable interactions' between the houses, especially in Quidditch; to highlight the importance of 'friendly competition' so to speak. So I figured, why not work with someone I won't feel bad about if they end up in the hospital wing?"

"Believe me, the feeling's mutual." He sneered.

" _Oi Draco! They're ready for us!"_ The three turned to see Blaise calling for him. He briefly waved to Hermione before retreating back to where the rest of the Slytherin students had congregated.

"Good luck, Blondie. Try not to get bloodied up too badly," Ginny joked. Hermione smiled at her usual methods of unyielding affection. Times like these made her appreciate the fieriness Ginny often brought to their circle of friends.

Hermione looked up at him and although his jaw was tight, she could make out a hint of humor dancing in his eyes.

"I think I'll manage." Malfoy said, eventually smirking at her.

The blond then turned his attention to Hermione. Gone was the trace of humor, replaced with something muddled for only a second. Then...nothing.

Before she could ponder on it, he abruptly excused himself and headed for the field. Hermione frowned at his retreating figure while Ginny took a seat beside her.

"So I take it things are going reasonably well with the ferret?"

"Why do you say that?" Hermione asked distractedly.

"Wasn't he just talking to you? That's probably the first time I've seen the two of you not yelling at each other."

Hermione turned to face her. "I suppose? That interaction was the most civil we've had so far."

"Well I must say, I'm impressed and amazed that you haven't killed him before me."

Hermione chuckled lightly, "You never know. The school year is still early..." She chewed on her bottom lip as another topic forced its way to the surface. "Did you know he's to be engaged?"

Ginny snorted. "How couldn't I?" She gave a brief nod to the other side of the stands where Astoria sat as she chatted with her friends. "His little priss of a soon-to-be-fiancée has shown up to almost every single practice we've had."

Hermione's lips pulled together tightly. "How lovely."

"How _tiresome_ , you mean. Her and her little group of birds were always gossiping and it was rather distracting. Thank Merlin, it won't affect me after today since we won't have any more practices together."

"She seemed nice enough to me." If two, short conversations were enough to make that judgement call.

"Well, he's going to have his hands full with that one. I almost feel bad for the git." She admitted.

Hermione blinked at her, unconvinced. "You do realize this is Malfoy you're talking about."

"Yes..." Ginny drew out slowly.

"The same person who made a daily routine of teasing your boyfriend, insulting your brother and threatening me all before noon."

"I'm well aware of what he did, Hermione, but we aren't our past. You heard what McGonagall said, we have to try to give everyone a chance. If I'm being honest, he's not as intolerable to work with as I was expecting. And he's good at the game. _Really_ good..."

With the current track record, Ginny would have spent more time with him in the past few weeks than herself. Maybe she knew something she didn't. But no one understood the level of hate he held for her kind better than herself.

"Don't get me wrong, he's still a dick." Hermione smiled at her bluntness. _That was an understatement_... "—but it was actually helpful practicing with him because I never had to hold back like I would if it was my teammate. That being said, I think you could use him to your advantage." She said with a glint of mischief.

It unnerved Hermione almost as much as when she saw the same expression on him.

Almost.

"What do you mean?

"Do I really need to acknowledge how winded Ron would get knowing you have to spend multiple evenings with _him?_ " She waggled her eyebrows at her.

The audacity of the concept outweighed the pang in her chest at the mention of Ron. Hermione forced a neutral expression as she let out a harsh, swift laugh. "He would never buy it. He knows I would never get involved with someone like him. What on Earth makes _you_ think I could ever want such a thing?" She knew she would regret asking the question when the fire in Ginny's eyes grew.

"He's hot for one." She said, smirking.

"Ginny!" Hermione gaped at her. Sure, he had always been more put together than other wizards at their school. Whatever had happened in the summer before their sixth year at Hogwarts had done him favors. Even as a bratty, spoiled child with slicked back hair, he was admired by many Slytherin girls. Now that it seemed he had grown into his looks, the several inches he held over her.

It hit Hermione that somehow Astoria's claim to him having a collection of witches at his beckoning call didn't seem so unbelievable after all.

"What? Even you can't deny it's true." Ginny laughed.

"You were literally just making fun of his looks!"

"I was only _teasing_ , Hermione. It's fun getting a rise out of him and oddly enough, it makes him play better. And while I'm being honest..." she looked behind them, as if to see if there was anyone eavesdropping on their conversation. "—his hair is only one of his _many_ alluring features." she continued quietly as she winked at her.

Hermione stared at her with hollow disbelief.

"And when you see him on a broom?" She feigned a schoolgirl fainting and landed her head on the brunette's lap. She cracked open one of her eyes to see Hermione staring down at her, unimpressed.

"Did you actually need something or can I take my leave now?" She asked flatly.

The redhead rolled her eyes at the brunette's attempt to avoid the subject and sat upright. "Harry owled me this morning. He said he and Ron weren't going to be able to make it to Hogsmeade tonight. They're in the middle of a big case and are working on a Saturday due to the shortage of staff."

She exhaled in relief. To be honest, she wasn't sure if she was able to face Ron knowing he was deliberately avoiding to communicate with her...and to have to sit through an entire evening that was intended to be a double date. There was also the fact that she still hadn't told Ginny or Harry of their current situation. She was waiting for the right time...whenever that was.

"Hermione?" She still hadn't responded.

"Yes. Tell him that's alright. We can do it another time."

Ginny was incredulous. "Really?"

"Yes. Why?"

"Harry was worried you would be upset they cancelled. Especially today."

Hermione's brow furrowed.

What was today?

Oh.

_Oh._

"I...completely forgot. I suppose I've been rather busy lately." She laughed lightheartedly.

After her meeting with Malfoy, she had spent more time in between classes to try to get ahead knowing what lay ahead of them the next couple of months. Not to mention the emotional exhaustion from her constant attempts to distract her thoughts regarding her strained relationship.

Thank goodness for books.

Her eyes softened. "You've been working too hard...I can see if they'd like to try for tomorrow night? I have my ways of making him say yes—" she insisted but was cut off when Hermione laughed and shook her head without hesitance.

"I appreciate your efforts Ginny, but I wouldn't be able to make it tomorrow."

"How come?"

She refrained from looking at the field as she thought of a green and silver tie and a handsome smirk.

"I have another obligation..."

* * *

Later that evening, she began packing away the notes she prepared for the commencement of their brew when she saw the time. She hadn't planned to stay up this late but was put slightly behind schedule as a result of spending the majority of her evening in Hogsmeade.

Shortly after she and Ginny returned from the pitch, she came back to a familiar eagle owl tapping on her bedside window. While Ginny headed for the showers, Hermione let the owl in and opened the large parcel from Harry which contained a long-written apology and various limited editions of books he had accumulated for her. In his letter, he assured her that even though he and Ron were unable to attend, he insisted they keep their original plans and have Ginny and Luna take her for a 'girls night out.'

She waited for Ginny to finish showering so she could read the letter aloud to her while she toweled her hair dry. She hadn't even gotten to the part where he said he would take care of any expenses before she was yanked out of the room to begin the search for Luna.

Not an hour later, Hermione found herself in the middle of the Three Broomsticks and savoring every sip of her butterbeer. There, they mainly gossiped about Luna's potions partner who had transferred from a wizarding school in America. She said he started there because it was where his grandmother attended but ultimately wanted to finish his education at Hogwarts when his interest for magical creatures grew with age. Hermione was fascinated by the stories she shared about him as a student attending a different school and as the grandson of a famous magizoologist.

She noted that she didn't have much to say about Neville the entire time. If something happened between them, she didn't show any signs of it and continued to enjoy herself regardless. It inspired Hermione to do the same, at least for the rest of the night...

*tap*

*tap*

She turned her head to investigate the noise coming from her bedside window. She smiled endearingly when she saw an owl and walked over to let him in. She had been receiving packages sporadically throughout the afternoon, bearing treats and flowers and heartfelt messages from former classmates.

She was surprised to see it was Harry's owl again.

Without a second thought, she let him in and took the package from its talons to unwrap it.

Hermione's tired eyes lit up in disbelief and read the cover four times to make sure she wasn't seeing things. But there was no mistaking what book she was holding. She looked at the owl again who stared back at her. Besides Harry, the only other person who knew was...

Ron.

Her hand shakily untied the note attached and flipped it over. She stared at the two, simple words that shattered her core...

_Happy Birthday._

* * *

**September 20, 1998**

With a newfound burst of motivation, Hermione decided to get a head start and spent the later part of her afternoon in the section of the astronomy tower Malfoy had reserved. Upon her arrival, she set her belongings down by the door and cast a quick cleansing to rid of any dust and cobwebs. She swiftly pulled two cushioned stools from her charmed handbag and took a seat on one of them, shedding her robes and tying her hair up into a messy bun. She glanced down at her watch;

6:30PM

She had half an hour before he was set to arrive. What could she do in the meantime? She bit her lip as she looked at her backpack guiltily.

Once she had the seventh book in hand, the sixth did not last much longer and was completed early this morning. Initially, she had brought the newest one to read while they took turns stirring. Surely, she could get in a few pages before he showed up. The ingredients were prepped and sat in their vials on the counter and it's not like she could start working the potion without the cauldron...

Forty five minutes later, she was three chapters in. Her large, brown eyes were so enraptured by the new book that she hardly flinched when the door flung open.

Her eyes snapped up to follow his figure as he set his items down next to hers and began to shrug off his robes.

She looked at her watch again. "You're late."

He rolled his eyes as he set his robes on his bag and went to unbutton his cuffs. "You could have started without me." he said irritably as he rolled up his sleeves.

"As I recall, you're the one with the cauldron." She replied simply, standing from her stool and walking over to him.

He scoffed, bending down to pull said object out of his bag. She went to take it from him when he held it out but he pulled it back last minute.

"Tsk tsk, Granger. Not even a 'please'? You really should learn to mind your manners," he taunted pretentiously.

She eyed the cauldron he held behind him. His height gave him the advantage. If she tried to grab it from where she stood, he could easily hold it high out of her reach.

Then she had an idea.

She raised a brow as if to challenge him. He watched her curiously as she did so. With a small grin and a flick of her wrist, she wandlessly expelled the cauldron from his hands. Bracing herself in a slightly squatted position, she extended both arms and caught the pot, holding it tightly to her chest. As she stood upright, she could have sworn she saw his jaw slacken for a second before it was tight again. His piercing eyes fixed on her as part of his bemused expression as his now-empty hands fell to his side.

Beginnings of a victorious smile etched its way onto her face.

" _P_ _lease_ make yourself useful and acquire five hundred grams of petroleum," she asked primly before sauntering away.

As she set the pot on the counter, she heard him huff and say something along the lines of " _b_ _ossy little swot_ " while he reluctantly did as she requested.

Once the petroleum was added and had begun to melt, he unpacked and prepped the freshly acquired feather and molies on the counter top space beside her.

When she stirred and he stripped the feather of its fibers, she cursed the approaching twisting in her stomach that occurred several times since she agreed to do this potion. If her theory was wrong, all the time she had spent trying to crack the code would have been a waste. She couldn't be wrong. The time frames for each of the attempts matched up to the lunar phases of their respective years. Malfoy even agreed with her theory. And she knows Draco Malfoy would _never_ agree with her for the sake of it...not in this life.

It would work, she decided then. It had to work.

" _Granger._ " His unexpected, impatient voice cut through her mind.

Suddenly alert, her head turned to his direction and blinked blankly at him. "What?"

"I asked if the base is ready." he said, staring at her pointedly.

"It will be. Just be patient." Hermione replied brusquely.

His cold, calculating gaze didn't waiver. "I _have_ been patient. You've had it heating for over twenty minutes now."

She turned her attention back to the pot in front of her, horrified to see the petroleum hadn't melted completely. That was odd. Maybe it was because of the higher elevation...

"Do you need me to take over?" She heard an edge at the end of his sentence but he wasn't taunting her this time. No, he wasn't amused in the slightest. "I won't have you fucking up because you're too busy getting distracted—"

"Don't be dramatic, Malfoy, it's probably because we're higher up than we were before. It only needs a few more minutes." She cut him off abruptly, uncomfortable with him towering over her still. "Please sit down."

"Am I making you _nervous_ again?" he said smugly. The harsh undertones had receded; he was back to teasing her again. Hermione debated if that change was reassuring or not while she stirred absentmindedly.

He huffed an aggressive scoff. "You have no reason to be. I'm not the same prat as before." He had a point. A few years ago, he would have thrown himself off a bridge before voluntarily placing himself in the same room as her.

"No, it's not you. It's just—" she paused, contemplating her choice of words. "I don't want to be wrong about this..." In the end, she blamed it on her inability to lie, like she hadn't meant to tell him. She resumed the clockwise motions so she wouldn't make the mistake of looking at him again. From the corner of her eye, she could see him walk to the other side of the room until he was completely out of sight. Though he stayed silent. Originally, she assumed she had broken him with her moment of vulnerability and didn't know how to respond. Not that she could blame him...she wouldn't have a clue of what to do if their roles were reversed. When her nerves were able to settle down, she understood; he was giving her space.

Approximately five minutes later, she had a cauldron filled with liquefied petroleum.

"It's ready." She said with as much confidence as she could muster and turned around to look at him. He had leaned his body against the nearby table and was propped on his elbows, eyes on the floor. Once he heard her, he pushed off without a moment's delay and walked back to his original place beside her to gather the ingredients into his hand. He hovered above the heated pot as she gave the last few stirs to keep the liquid in motion.

Extracting the ladle, she wiped the bead of sweat that collected at her forehead. "Moment of truth." Her eyes flickered to his. She nodded. And he let go.

They watched as the feather fibers and petals fell in, mesmerized as the solids began to leak their colors almost instantly. They witnessed the translucent base transform, emitting a light glow before settling into a silvery hue.

She felt light when the tension left her body, her shoulders slumped as she sighed in relief. Malfoy merely smirked at her and went to extract more items from his bag.

"What? No, 'not bad for a muggleborn' or even a snarky remark?" she prompted.

"Didn't think someone like you still needed people telling her what she already knows." he returned coolly.

She supposed that was as close to a compliment she would ever get from him.

"Besides," There was light clatter when he deposited the rest of its contents onto the counter. "That was only the beginning—"

She nodded, fully prepared to take on the rest of the evening. "Then let's get started."

For the next hour, they settled into a comfortable rhythm; she flipped between her notes and the concoction, reading the ingredients aloud as she maintained the potion and he prepped the recited ingredient before tossing it into the solution. In between additions, she would watch for any shifts in color or drastic changes to viscosity and he would adjust the independent variables accordingly.

After the final ingredient of the evening was added and incorporated, now came the dull part of the process; constant observation. The third entry mentioned the most changes would occur in the first couple of hours and would need to be watched constantly in that time frame. Pausing in her motions, wiped the sweat off her brow as she pulled out her wand and cast a motioning spell on the ladle. She stood up to flex her sore wrist, in dire need of fresh air.

She glanced around to locate her partner before pinpointing him at the balcony where he braced himself against the railing. His head was tilted upwards, gazing at the skies as the stars lit it up. She took note of the slight breeze in the air, noticing the directional movements his clothes and hair gave away as they shifted with it. Remembering why she initially desired his attention, Hermione willed herself to look away and cleared her throat.

"Are you ready?"

"For what?" His voice was oddly distant.

"It's your turn to watch the potion."

He slowly turned in place, eyes lit up in something unrecognizable. "Had I known you were going to be this needy, I would have begged Slughorn the first day."

She pursed her lips, already taking on her lecturing stance with her hands on her hips. "Mind you, I've been stirring for the past two hours since we started—

He rolled his eyes at her. "Don't whine, Granger, it's unbecoming."

"Not to mention you're the one who showed up late—"

"You're hardly the one to be lecturing me about tardiness," he shot back when she turned around to tidy up their workspace.

"I was late to class once."

"And our first meeting?" He reminded her.

She turned, glaring at him. "You said 'after dinner'. Therefore, I arrived 'after dinner.'"

"That was my mistake," he sniffed, "I wasn't aware you ate like a sloth—"

"Watch it, Malfoy." She said, warningly.

He shrugged nonchalantly. "Can't help if the truth hurts, Granger."

Her jaw clenched.

"Alright, alright. I'm coming." With a satisfied smirk, he stepped away from the balcony to take her place while she fetched her book.

An hour passed since they switched places. Light bubbling from the potion and the random clinking were the only noises she made out while she read peacefully until a low grumble took her from her fantasy world. Hermione looked around curiously before her eyes landed on the only other occupant of the room. Mere seconds later, she found him staring back.

"What?" He snapped.

"Did you hear that?" As if on cue, the noise sounded again. This time, she was able to identify a specific point of origin; his stomach.

"You haven't eaten." She observed.

"Didn't have the time," he responded definitively as he stirred.

She eyed him precariously. "You can eat your apple. I won't judge you this time."

He made no movements to reach for his bag.

"You didn't bring any food, did you?" She asked, taken aback.

"Didn't have the time." He repeated with a tone of finality. Decided to drop the subject, she fought the urge to ask, recognizing that he had no interest in continuing the conversation. In the meantime, there was another topic she had thought to implore with him; the intangible ingredient. After having a week to dwell over her hypothesis, she questioned the accuracy of it. To be fair, she wouldn't have thought anything of it if it weren't only mentioned during the last round of additions. She quickly ran through the ingredients in her head: ground dragon scales...unicorn hairs...wildflower honey...fresh blood...last time she checked, all of those were very much tangible items.

"Do you remember when the eighth entry mentioned the 'intangible ingredient'?" She found herself asking aloud.

"What of it?" He replied dismissively.

"Have you any thoughts on what ingredient that might be?"

"Does it matter?" Malfoy retorted.

"Call it a natural curiosity for the unknown. Surely even you can understand that." Her brown eyes shined with a glint of delight, pleased when he ran a hand through his hair frustratingly. She had a feeling now matter how different he was now, he still wouldn't be able to back down from a challenge.

He sighed heavily. _"_ Yes. I have thought about it."

How she loved to be right. "And?"

She could see an internal debate occurring in his head. "I suppose now's a good time to mention, there was an undocumented attempt at making the potion. More recent than the eighth."

Per usual, a million questions ran through her head. Though, she remembered who she was talking to and thought it best to restrict it to one question at a time. "By who?

She wondered if it was someone she knew...who did she know that was capable of doing such a potion? Someone who clearly had high aspirations and expectations.

He continued to speak like he hadn't heard her. "Typically, it was dark magic that captured his fancy. But there were many factors that kept him intrigued by such a potion; the secrecy, the missing pieces, the challenge. It excited him like nothing else. So he devoted time. _Lots_ of it. All to try and uncover its secrets."

_Uncover its secrets..._

Of course.

"I was only a child when I found out. He was on the final phase when I stumbled upon him one evening right as he had cut himself. I called him a madman. He was only upset because it didn't work." His eerily calm persona contrasted with Hermione who was horrified as he recalled the memory of his childhood.

"You were close to him, then...was he your relative?" She asked, hesitantly. She never really knew what to make of their relationship. Only that the elder was rather...protective in his own way when it came to the youth.

"Godfather, actually." He corrected.

It all made sense now. "That's why...the unbreakable vow," she realized.

"How do you know about that?" he snarled but she hadn't heard him. All of her processing power prioritized connecting the dots.

"He helped you all along. That's why he supported you in your attempts to assassinate Dumbledore—"

"My _failed_ attempts, mind you." he interrupted.

"That's why you want to make this potion, then. As homage to him?"

His lips twitched upwards. "You might say that. He never disclosed the details of brewing the potion to me so you could also call it a _natural curiosity for the unknown."_ he echoed her words from earlier. "Magic by itself never really fascinated me. You can teach anyone with magic in their blood to say a few words, wave a wand around and hope for something to happen. That's all there is to it. _But_ when you add factors like intention...and purpose...and a deranged mentality, that's when things get interesting."

He sounded so far away despite standing right in front of her. Hearing his words frightened her. Not because he intimidated or was threatening.

But because he was someone who has thought about the intricacy of magic, much like herself. Except he had experienced the other side of magic...the darker side.

"If I've learned anything over the past few years, it's that witches and wizards alike are capable of turning the most beautiful thing into something ugly. It's why everyone who has created it successfully so far has left bits and pieces of information behind. So that those with the right intentions are more likely to uncover its true ability. That's why he failed."

Intrigued, she sat straight up. Her book remained closed beside her, long forgotten. "Why is that?"

Her lips pursed. "When you decoded the eighth entry, you mentioned one of the ingredients was 'intangible'."

She nodded. "I thought it was the effects of the moon."

"How naive of you," he chuckled darkly. "Now put yourself into the head of one of the most demented people you've ever known to exist and think about the ingredient list again. Why would you want to keep a potion like _this_ away from someone like _that_?" Hermione already felt the cold chills travel down her spine as she did as he instructed, her intuition acting alongside her altered cognitive mind.

"The blood. But you don't think it's actually _wizards'_ blood—?"

"Of course it's wizards' blood! What else would it be? Were you just going to kill a random animal when the time came?" He was immensely confounded.

"I wasn't going to _kill_ an animal. I was planning on stunning it and extracting the blood while it was—" she sighed, exasperated. "It doesn't matter. Why do you think it's wizard's blood? You said Professor Snape failed when he used his own. We're obviously not taking anyone else's—"

"Tell me what this potion is used for." He prompted swiftly.

"I—to heal deep and old wounds. Usually, these are wounds that can't simply be magicked away or heal on their own." She answered easily.

"Because one's body isn't capable of healing such a wound. Not on its own, at least."

Instantly, her instincts were gratified...because they knew he was right.

"The blood has to be willingly given by someone else."

He nodded grimly. "That's the part he couldn't figure out. This potion is more than a healing salve—"

"—it is an act of _selflessness_ ," she finished. "Selflessness is the intangible ingredient."

At first, she was baffled by the fact that they managed to have such a profound conversation. He had answered her question, multiple, in fact that that she had often wondered about. For that, she was grateful. Now that she was left with the idea that he had been stringing her along, she felt dubious. He had known about the last phase all along and neglected to tell her. _What exactly was he playing at?_

"Were you expecting me to cut myself for this? Did you think I would be willing to sacrifice my blood for the sake of a school assignment?"

"Truth be told, I wasn't expecting _anything_ from you." He answered steadily, his gaze fixed on her.

She scrutinized his eyes carefully. Free of any malice or deceit, his steely greys only displayed defeat and exhaustion. A common occurrence as of late. Hermione didn't know how to feel about the harsh reality in his words. He had prepared himself not to expect anything from her. Even admitted it to her. Then why did she feel...sympathy? And guilt?

_We aren't our past._

No, they certainly weren't. Much had changed since then. Ginny had a point. He wasn't as she imagined he would be since they've returned. Sure, he'd been consistently neurotic in their encounters so far but perhaps she had pressed too hard. She knew she couldn't treat him like she did Harry and Ron. No...she needed a new approach...

_We are all victims of the war and should not be judged for how things were before._

Decision made, she stood from her seat and walked over to him. "I can take over if you'd like."

"You don't think I can handle stirring?" He smirked but somehow she could tell he was on the verge of becoming defensive again.

"We're in the last hour for this phase and only one of us needs to be here. It's getting late."

"You realize we have the same class tomorrow morning." He argued.

"Except one of us hasn't eaten for most of the day." She hoped she didn't sound too much like a concerned mother. He continued to stare wordlessly at her. As if he weren't sure whether this was real or not.

"Go," she urged. "I'll see you in class tomorrow."

A few minutes later, he had gathered his belongings while she continued to monitor the potion. As he buttoned his robes and slung his bag onto his shoulders, Hermione debated whether or not she should say 'goodnight' or bid some form of farewell. Ultimately, she decided against it.

"You don't have to pretend, Granger. I told you we don't have to act like anything is different." His voice came out evenly when he spoke, contrasting the rising turbulence Hermione felt within. Why did he have to keep bringing that up?

"I'm not. It's called being a decent person, Malfoy." She responded, her tone deceivingly gentle. He said nothing further.

Hermione kept her focus on the potion, subconsciously counting his steps until she heard the door close between them.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: I swear, these chapters are getting longer and longer for some reason... And I'm not going to lie, this chapter was probably the hardest to construct because of all of the different layers but I really liked how it turned out. Thank you everyone for your patience and kind words :)


	11. The Prisoner

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: I'm glad many of you appreciate the longer chapter. The main reason for the last one taking forever was because I kept adding on things. Then 7K+ words later and...well...you know what happened (the same thing may or may not have happened to this one...) and get excited guys! We finally see what our beloved Slytherin Prince has been up to. Here's to a happy belated birthday to him. Enjoy!
> 
> WARNING: Suggestive themes ahead

Ch.10: The Prisoner

_Hermione smiled at him from the middle of the warmly lit room._

_"Are you sure about this?" he asked cautiously._

_With bated breath, she nodded gingerly._

_Moments later, they were lying in his bed. Bare and embraced by the soft mattress beneath them._

_"Hermione." He smiled lightheartedly. His touches were so delicate and faint, they felt nonexistent. Almost ghost-like._

_"Ron…" she sighed at the foreign sensations._

_Touch after touch, Hermione felt herself sinking lower and lower._

_Then the bed began to engulf her whole._

_With his body pressing her in further._

_She felt her pulse beginning to race. Her breaths were uneven._

_The familiar sensation of panic set in._

_It was too much._

_"Ron...wait_ _—" But the words wouldn't come out._

_"I love you."_

_In an instant, her breath was taken from her._ _All of the candle w_ _icks blew smoke._ _Their surroundings froze._

_His body disappeared from its place above hers and she sat up quickly, feeling the panic that had set in overtake her lungs._

_It was almost comical how quickly she yanked on the sheets to cover her bare breasts._

_"Ron—" she tried again._

_"Why are you doing this to us? I thought we were in this together...I thought you loved me..." Every word was heavy, like weights compressing on her ribs._

_"Don't be ridiculous. You know I do."_

_"Then say it. Tell me you love me. Go on." The edginess in his tone was misplaced._ _Her heart wavered because of it._

_"I…" Her voice left her. As did her confidence._

_"You've said it before. Why can't you now?" The desperate tones in his voice matched her desire to find her clothes._ _She glanced around, hoping throwing on a garment or two would help._

_"Well?"_

_She paused and gripped the sheets tighter._

_W_ _here were her clothes?_

_"I...I'm so sorry."_

_He looked down, defeated. When had everything gone so wrong?_

_"I'm sorry too, Hermione." The look of disappointment was outlandish when displayed on his face. She decided she hated seeing it as much as she hated feeling this vulnerable. "I don't think this is going to work." He declared before turning to walk out of the room, fully dressed._

_Wait...when did he get dressed?_

_"Hold on. Ron, come back!" She leapt from the bed and bolted out of the room after him with the bed sheet clutched tightly against her lithe frame. Frames passed as she chased him down the long corridor._ _Seriously...where the hell were her clothes?_ _He kept walking and the distance between them remained. Her legs slowed down as she came to a halt, suddenly feeling faint._

_"...mione?"_

_Her head jerked up, alert. Ron was nowhere to be found as her eyes darted about her surroundings._

_"Hermione?"_

_That was weird...since when did Ron sound like a woman?_

"... _get...up_!"

 _She could feel strong vibrations. Like she was trembling...or being shaken_ _violently._

"... _Hermione...wake up_!"

Ginny.

* * *

The redhead grunted as she continued to wrestle with the unconscious brunette, holding her wrists tightly to keep her from harming herself.

"Come on Hermione, you have to get up _—_ hey, watch it!"

She ducked out of the way when an arm got loose from her grasp and aimed straight for her head. Once the arm retracted, she frantically reached over to capture the temporarily freed limb.

It had been a relatively quiet evening in the castle for students and faculty alike. Nothing in particular stood out as out-of-the-ordinary and had remained that way when the sun began to rise the next morning. Ginny Weasley knew when she woke up that it was earlier than what she had been accustomed to the last few weeks. She stirred for another minute or so before closing her eyes to what she hoped was an additional, blissful hour of slumber. Not five minutes later, her eyes shot wide open, alerted by a loud thud and a yelp of pain.

Ginny looked over to where Hermione's bed was adjacent to hers. Then she shifted her eyes downward.

The occupant of the bed had fallen on the floor between them and was tousling about. And still very much unconscious.

Thankfully, she had unknowingly picked an ideal time to start a ruckus. Hermione inadvertently served as the house's alarm clock that morning, providing everyone the ability to collect themselves and have plenty of time for breakfast before classes began at eight. Ginny glanced around at the unmade, vacant beds, almost wishing she had requested assistance before they all left for the Great Hall.

To be fair, she hadn't expected her to put up this much of a fight.

"Ginny?"

"Oh thank Merlin," she sighed of relief and forced herself from relaxing her death grip on Hermione's wrists as she looked up to acknowledge the newest addition to the room. "Luna, she's doing it again but she's putting up more resistance this time. Wake her up while I hold her down. Hurry." She urged.

Luna wasted no time and extracted her wand the minute she was at Hermione's bedside.

_"Rennervate."_

Almost immediately, Hermione was forced into consciousness. Ginny instantly let her go and jumped out of the way while their bed ridden companion shot up from her slumber in a daze. As she yawned and wiped the sleep away, her brown eyes fixated on a concerned redhead.

"Ginny? Is something the matter?"

Her expression was incredulous. "You tell me. You were the one thrashing in your sleep."

She blushed, reality sinking into her sleep riddled head. "I'm so sorry. I didn't wake anyone else, did I?"

Ginny looked at her sheepishly. "Just...one or two others..."

Fear crossed her face as Hermione took in the surroundings to survey the empty, unmade beds around them. She was completely mortified. This had been the third night in a row and it seemed to be getting worse. It all started when she received that blasted book on her birthday. Upon receiving it, she was delighted to have obtained such a thoughtful parcel through the mail. Though the more she thought about the lack of a letter or further wordage from him made her think otherwise for it was the only thing she had gotten from him since she sent her letters. Then she realized...it was a final message. A token which stated their friendship was intact but their relationship had failed.

And Hermione Granger was not a person who tolerated failure.

"Do you want to talk about it?" Luna's soft voice took her out of her thoughts.

She had contemplated her options numerous times before. In the end, there were only two to choose from: either tell them now and risk having a tension friendship for a considerable portion of the school year or avoid the entire subject completely like she had been doing so far. Every time, her answer was the same:

"No...not particularly."

Ginny held back her tongue even though it was clear there was more she wanted to say. "Right then. We best be off. They stop serving breakfast soon." She quipped sharply before turning and exiting the room without a second glance back.

Hermione felt a pang of guilt for keeping something so imperative from her friends. _It wasn't the right time_ , she kept telling herself.

Her lingering gaze on the empty doorway didn't shift when she felt a dip in her bed. Nor when she heard Luna speak again. "I know it's not any of my business Hermione, but you really should tell her," she offered.

"Tell her what?" she asked. She could have meant anything _—_ the reason why she preferred coffee over tea most days, or why she refused to respect Divination as a worthwhile study of magic, or her subtle insecurities of being sorted into the wrong house, or how she came to adopt Crookshanks _—_ literally _anything._

"About Ron, of course." Luna answered without hesitation.

Hermione snapped her head around to face her. Despite having a light smile grace her features, she looked almost...sad for her. "How _—_ "

"Don't worry. No one else knows...except the moon frog. But he's rather good at keeping secrets." She reassured.

Hermione stared at her, dumbfounded. "Sorry... _moon frog_?"

"Yes. He likes to be referred to as 'Henry' most of the time. He's very nice."

Like most everyone, Hermione decided it would be best to agree and go along with it. "I...it's not that simple, Luna. Ron's not some random person, he's her brother _—_ "

" _—_ and you're her friend. She would understand." She put her hand on her shoulder as an attempt to comfort her.

She would have liked to believe that assumption though logic seemed to be her enemy in this case.

Luna's hand left her shoulder when she stood from the bed. "I won't hold you any longer. I shall leave you to get ready and join Ginny at breakfast. The moon frog told me there would be a surplus of croissants today. I'll save you one if you'd like."

"I-uh-that'd be lovely."

Luna smiled kindly before departing to leave Hermione behind, still clearly conflicted.

She knew she had to tell Ginny the truth at some point. But how could she when she could barely admit it to herself? Hermione sighed heavily as she looked towards the chest placed at the foot of her bed.

At least she knew where to find her clothes...

* * *

**September 23, 1998**

Thankfully, the day didn't drag on longer than necessary and proved to be a therapeutic remedy for her. School work had a tendency to have that effect on her, especially with the state she was currently experiencing. Acquiring knowledge through school work was concrete, something she could rely on on a day-to-day basis. As the day progressed, she was able to avoid speaking to Ginny regarding this morning which wasn't difficult given they had been in classes for the majority of it. At random points, she had Luna's airy voice taunting her subconscious. Even now as she left her final class for the day and headed towards the common room, she could hear her clearly;

_You really should tell her..._

_She would understand..._

Hermione knew even if she reacted horribly initially, she would come to understand eventually. She blamed her insecurity in attaining friends for her lack of nerve. But it didn't matter. She deserved to know and better it came from her than from Ron when she returned home for the holidays.

 _Perhaps after a nap,_ she thought as she strode down the hall. Her lack of sleep over the past few nights had finally caught up to her and clearly showed when she received odd looks from several of her classmates.

Someone had stepped up to her and was walking alongside her. "There you are. I'm surprised you made it throughout the day." She was relieved to hear concern replace the previous tone of disappointment.

"I think I finally woke up during charms class." She admitted.

"Good because you looked awful this morning." Ginny remarked.

"Thanks for the reassurance." Hermione responded, dryly.

"Anytime." She grinned at her. "I meant to ask you, how was it last night?" Ginny asked with more suggestive undertones than Hermione was expecting. She hadn't let anything slip while she was unconscious, had she?

She cleared her throat nervously. "Sorry?"

"With Malfoy?" She clarified. "I assumed you were watching over your potion with him like you've been doing every night this week but you came back late last night. Did everything go alright?"

In the midst of her distracted thoughts, she neglected to factor in the time she ended up spending with Malfoy last night.

With the lack of concrete information on any adverse effects they could encounter along the way, both were equally cautious if anything were to happen to the brew and decided to supervise it for a few hours in the evening. In the past few nights following dinner, they would find their own way to the astronomy tower where they spent several hours tending the brew and catching up on work.

While there was still an obvious tension neither felt like addressing, they managed to settle in a comfortable routine of working in silence. The past several nights spent observing were overall uneventful minus the occasional temperature adjustment.

During their session last night, Hermione found her focus constantly shifting between her twenty page essay for Alchemy and the subject haunting her very dreams. When she failed to make any progress after staring at the same page since starting, she set her quill down and ran her fingers through her hair in frustration as she forced her concentration elsewhere. Eventually, she laced her fingers together on the table and laid her head on top as an attempt to put her mind at ease. She allowed the ambiance of the room to embrace her, already feeling the stress from the lack of sleep dwindling. Aside from the low rumble of the potion, a light rustling and snapping could be heard a short distance away.

Curiously, she peeked over to her left where Malfoy had been prepping a sample for their lecture in Herbology tomorrow. Her eyes followed the hypnotic movement of his pale hands as he stripped the dead leaves from their stems with utmost delicacy before bagging them. Her eyes trailed upwards to see his typically cold facade drawn tight in concentration as he made sure to not break the fragile leaves. In the midst of her distraction, she noticed the normal hum of the potion had changed. Furrowing her brow, she leaned over to peer into the pot only to find the potion had changed from its silver hue and gained a faint pink colour. With dread racing through her veins, she briskly obtained the attention of her partner and they scrambled to find a fix for the unstable solution. Not free without debate, however;

 _"What the hell did you do, Granger?" He accused as he flipped through several books haphazardly while she lowered the temperature and_ _stirred in hopes of settling the violent bubbling_ _down_ _quicker._

 _"I didn't do anything! It just...happened all of a sudden." S_ _he said defensively, panicking as the potion turned a fiery red._

_"Right," he huffed as he pulled a vial from his bag. "I turn away for a minute and I'm suppose to believe it just 'happened all of a sudden.'" He shuffled back to their work station and extracted a feather from the vial._

_She continued to stir, her eyes following his movements as he stripped the feather fibers._ _"Of course you assume it was my doing when you're the one n_ _ot paying attention._ _"_

 _"Can't trust a bloody Gryffindor," he_ _sneered._

 _"Try working with a Slytherin. It's practically impossible," she_ _remarked, disdainfully ._

Two hours, a half a feather, many temperature adjustments and a few callous comments later, they were finally able to stabilize their potion. After another hour no apparent changes, they tidied up their workspace and called it a night before returning to their respective common rooms.

She supposed getting back later than normal last night didn't help with her lack of restful sleep.

Hermione let out a deep sigh of frustration. "Everything turned out fine. We ran into a bit of an issue but we resolved it _—_ "

"Now, now..." She heard a familiar drawl coming from behind. "Let's not misplace the credit, Granger."

Hermione braced herself while Ginny acknowledged his presence with a neutral tone.

She had been looking forward to that nap...

"I'm really not in the mood, Malfoy. Can't this wait _—?_ "

"I only need a moment of your time." He cut her off brusquely in an annoyingly posh tone.

Realizing there was no getting rid of him, Hermione turned her head to address Ginny only to find an empty space beside her. She must have walked on to their dorms already. She turned her attention back to him. He was looking at her. Taking her in.

She squinted at him. "What?"

He appeared rather uncomfortable as he shifted in his stance. She was intrigued at the sudden change in demeanor. "I _—_ ahem _—_ didn't mean to accuse you of jeopardizing the potion last night..."

She stared at him. _Was he...apologizing to her_? "I wasn't overly concerned once we sorted it out."

"Really." He said, somewhat affronted.

"No...why?" She eyed him curiously. Why would it have when the few conversations they held were typically hostile and malicious?

He paused, staring at her. "You looked like a victim of the Whomping Willow this morning," he stated blatantly.

If Malfoy of all people noticed how off her rocker she had been, she knew it wasn't good. And that mere fact wasn't improving her mood one bit.

She pursed her lips together. "Is that all?"

He smirked slightly. "Just making an observation."

She glowered at him and shifted to make a quick exit before he stopped her in her tracks.

"I was thinking about what happened last night."

"And?"

"And," he exhaled. "I don't think there is a need for the both of us to be present every evening," he held his hand up to stop her from interrupting, pausing her with her mouth agape in protest. "Considering the significance of this assignment looming over our heads, I know we both want to take as many precautions as possible to ensure nothing happens to the potion. However, I think it best to limit the chances of...overwhelming it."

"Overwhelming it..." she echoed, recalling Professor Slughorn's lecture when he set the assignment. How the creator, or in this case, creators, affect the outcome of a potion. "You think how we react somehow affects the potion," she said, as his words were registered.

"It didn't start acting up until one of us did. My assumption is because the entire essence of the potion is an act of giving, it will take anything and everything we exude as sustenance." He paused, clearing his throat. "For example, your frustrations with that essay you were working on."

Her eyes widened.

He had been watching her.

"Or your oddly passionate, though mostly aggressive, note taking _—"_

He had been watching to confirm the peculiarities of her character. To critique her.

"Now, hold on a minute _—"_

"Not to mention your overly complicated and baffling mind as a female in general _—"_

"Are you quite finished _—?_ "

"Just about. Though I probably shouldn't even begin with your hair." He sniffed.

"What does my hair have to do with how I feel?" Hermione demanded.

"You misunderstand. It's how _I_ feel when I see it," he looked at her in mock disgust. "It's absolutely horrendous."

"For Godric's sake, Malfoy _—"_

"My point is," he cut in fluidly, suppressing her opposition. " _—_ the less of _that_ we expose it to, the less chances we have of risking a shift. Aside from the normal environmental changes we may need to adjust for every night, I can't imagine we'll have many momentous evenings like the last. I hope you're somewhat capable of watching a potion for an hour or two on your own with a level head." He stated coolly.

She paused to consider his words and to refrain from smacking him in retaliation.

'You're actually suggesting we take turns watching the potion?" She concluded.

"Was that not clear enough for you?" He drawled, obnoxiously.

"I hope you realize this proposition suggests that you trust me." She said slowly.

"Don't overthink it, Granger," he said irritatingly. "This is me suggesting that I have other things I would rather tend to. I suppose you could benefit from this as well if you actually had a social life."

She clenched her jaw and eyed him coldly. "I do have a social life...and _actual_ friends. Bodyguards don't count."

"Close enough, I think." He smirked at her. "So that settles it then. I'll take the first watch tomorrow." He brushed past her and continued his way down the corridor.

If he was watching it tomorrow, then who was watching it tonight...?

_That conniving, sneaky little—_

She turned to rectify him, only to find he had already disappeared around the corner.

_Bastard._

So much for that nap...

* * *

**September 24, 1998**

Much to Hermione's relief, she was able to obtain a preferable night's sleep with a mild sleeping draught she managed to conjure up while devoting part of her evening in the astronomy tower without her partner. While she was able to get more sleep and managed not to wake up the entirety of Gryffindor Tower last night, she still had the same recurring dream.

Regardless, she knew deep down that it was pointless. She was buying time she knew she wouldn't be able to hide the truth for much longer. She wasn't sure if Ginny acting like nothing had transpired between the two of them made her feel better or worse.

"At least you look better than you did yesterday," Ginny remarked as they walked towards their last class of the day.

Worse. Definitely worse.

"Thank you for sharing." She replied starkly.

"Your mood could use some work," Ginny added.

Hermione motioned to retort but was interrupted by Theo's jaunty voice when he and Blaise walked up to them from behind.

"Afternoon ladies. I must say Granger, you were awfully...chipper this morning."

"I was worried when your arm didn't shoot up every five minutes to answer a question yesterday. Were you injured?" Blaise added jokingly.

Ginny quickly intervened, "Bugger off. She had a long night."

"Oooh long night, huh? Does that mean I have some competition, then?" He waggled his eyebrows at her and Ginny swiftly smacked him on the arm in retaliation. "OW. Alright, alright. I know my limits."

Hermione rolled her eyes and looked around casually, noting a distinct lack of superiority and entitlement during their interaction. "Where's Malfoy? I'm surprised he isn't taking full advantage of this."

To her surprise, she was greeted with unease from the both of them.

"He left."

What?

A few beats passed.

"He _l_ _eft?_ No one leaves school grounds on the weekdays without special permission."

"Something came up. He had special permission from McGonagall." Theo answered though not without hesitance.

But...what about their potion?

"Did he say when he would be back?"

"By tomorrow morning, I think."

Why didn't he tell her?

"So concerned for him all of a sudden, Princess?" Blaise asked with a hint of suspicion.

"Our assignment," she explained. "It was his turn to look after it tonight."

Theo grimaced. "You make it sound like you're watching a child."

"It's a school assignment they created together," Blaise quipped. "It may as well be their chi _—"_

"Why couldn't he tell me himself?" Hermione cut him off before they could digress too far from the conversation. A shrill voice erupted as soon as Theo opened his mouth to answer.

"You two!" The four of them turned their heads quickly to see Astoria marching up to them from the other end of the corridor, positively seething.

"Shite, how did she find us?" Blaise mumbled to Theo who was beginning to display signs of sheer panic.

"I-I don't know. I was sure we weren't followed." Hermione was worried he was going to pass out any moment if he hyperventilated any longer.

"Oi, what have you two done?" Ginny whispered harshly. "I did not sign up to be bombarded by _her_ _—_ "

"We thought we lost her!" Blaise muttered under his breath just as Astoria had reached them.

"I've been looking for you two everywhere," she hissed, scowling at them.

"W-we were heading to study hall _—_ " Theo tried but Astoria wasn't having any of it.

"You're not going anywhere," she said pointedly. "As his future wife, I demand you tell me where he is." Hermione felt herself involuntarily cringe at her choice of words as they fell from her tongue. This was not the bountiful, pleasant girl she had encountered on the train ride or alongside Malfoy. This was a girl who was not afraid to take conniving measures to get what she wanted. She was a prime example of why Slytherin held the negative reputation it had for so long.

Blaise's lips drew back in a snarl. "You _demand_ us _?_ I'm not your fucking peasant _—_ " he barked.

"Besides, who's to say we even know where he is?" Theo added.

"Yeah, what do we look like? His 'mummy and daddy'?"

"Might as well be some days." Ginny mumbled. Hermione knew Blaise had told her some of the misbehavings of their childhood during their own potion meetings. She claimed it was excellent bonding material by providing common ground.

Blaise scoffed, "You're telling me. I swear that man is moody as they come."

"Even more so lately," Theo added.

"Must be his time of the month _—_ " Blaise joked.

"Time of the _year_ is more like it," Ginny corrected.

He and Theo laughed in agreement.

Hermione felt the corner of her mouth quirk up at the three of them, interacting as if they had been friends for a long time. Like there was never any bad blood between them. Though Astoria was clearly not amused. Not in the slightest.

"Stop playing me a fool. I'm not leaving until I find out where he is." She stood with her arms crossed and a dainty foot lightly tapping the floors.

"Don't you have a class you should be getting to?" Blaise said while feigning a disinterested yawn.

"I can get notes from Olivia and Penelope later. I've got all the time I need." she answered flippantly while Hermione's brain racked for the people she mentioned seeing as she wasn't as familiar with the class a year behind Ginny's.

"You're serious? Those two are too busy staring at the boys in your class or flirting with Blaise to be doing anything productive."

"Trying, mate. They _try_ to flirt with me." Blaise corrected slowly. "Doesn't matter, I suppose. They're a bit too young for my tastes."

"They're my age." She countered.

He raised a brow at her as if he were voicing, _you're only proving my point._

She scoffed and pointed her nose up at the dark skinned wizard. "You could learn a thing or two from Draco. Maybe one day you'll see that age doesn't matter when you're in love." She kept her poise even as Blaise smiled.

"Funny you mention that. I dunno if you are aware of your _darling_ 's track record but he's always seemed to have a preference for older witches..." His calculating grin grew, causing Astoria's to diminish. "And I'm sure he wouldn't like to hear about his _younger_ to-be-betrothed skipping her classes to interrogate his friends. From what I heard, he wasn't pleased to have _that_ talk with your parents _—_ " Blaise recalled, delighting in her furious scowl.

"That was a private matter." She cut him off harshly.

"And it would have remained that way if you weren't here hassling us." Theo pressed.

"You know he's told me stories about you too _—_ "

"Go on then," Blaise prompted, throwing his hands in the air. "Everyone here knows I spent my childhood acting like a stuck-up git and I'm not ashamed to admit my faults." He avoided looking at Hermione and Ginny, hoping he wouldn't get thrown off by their reaction to his candor.

"You're still a stuck-up git." She huffed before turning on her heel and headed for her next class she was now late for.

"It was nice chatting with you!" He yelled after her as she stormed away.

Theo smiled gratefully as she retreated. "Nice one, mate."

"Did you have to rile her up like that?" Hermione spoke for the first time since Astoria confronted the group.

"Believe us, she can get to be so much worse." Theo assured.

"I've never seen her like that before."

"She'll only act that way to you if she thinks you're a threat. Around Draco, she's an absolute angel. Without him, she's much worse to deal with than devil's snare." Blaise clarified.

Hermione shifted her attention to Ginny. "She thought _you_ were a threat?"

The redhead shrugged. "We had quidditch practice together. I suppose I took too much of his time and attention away from her."

"I'm surprised she hasn't acted hostile towards you seeing as you were spending evenings together," Theo inquired.

"I made it clear to her the nature of our...relationship." She answered, ending it awkwardly.

"Oh really?" Blaise asked, intrigued. "And what exactly is the nature of it, Granger?" he smirked, seeming to know something Hermione didn't, much to her displeasure.

Hermione glared at him before dropping her voice dangerously. "Don't be an idiot, Zabini."

He held his hands up in defense. "I'm only asking." Blaise teased. "I figured with your history and pent up aggression over the years, the two of you would finally cave after being in such close proximity. If it helps, I've even heard stories about how he is in b _—"_

"I have no interest, nor feelings of the sort for him. _"_ Hermione interrupted brusquely, refusing to hear anymore. "Especially now that I'm cross with him which reminds me _—_ " She paused, eyeing the boys with an aggression they hadn't witnessed since she held a wand between their friend's eyes third year. "Am I allowed to know of his whereabouts or am I to assume he is never to return and should consider myself partner-less?"

Theo and Blaise glanced at each other, stunned.

"He didn't want to say. He only told us that he would be back before tomorrow morning."

Her eyes flickered briefly in the direction Astoria had walked off in. She supposed if she didn't know, then that made her feel slightly better. Ultimately, she decided against pressing on the subject any longer, knowing it would only make her more agitated.

"Fine. I'll check on it tonight after dinner." She resigned.

These boys were truly going to be the death of her.

"That's the spirit, Princess. Now, shall we escort you to study hall or should you and I consider skipping and spending our free period in that empty classroom over there?"

"I'm not nearly sleep deprived enough to agree to something like that, Zabini." She looked down between them at his offered arm. "However, I will never turn down accompaniment to study hall..."

He grinned wickedly when she took his arm. "Duly noted."

* * *

A tall, dark wizard stood with his arms crossed as stared out barred windows and watched the turbulent storm batter the waters of the North Sea.

Sadness. That's all that could be felt for not an ounce of happiness could be felt for miles. He could only imagine what life was like on this side. Though one had to do unforgivable things to end up here to deserve the suffering. He certainly had seen what this place could do to a man.

A man who had done all of the wrong things.

He was taken from his thoughts when he heard two sets of footsteps enter. Then came the sound of rattling magical cuffs. Followed shortly by a thud and low grunt as someone was forced in a chair.

"You have an hour." Came a harsh voice. He recognized it as the guard who led him here.

A set of footsteps receded. The wizard made no sudden movements and waited with bated breath as the door shut once more. His breathing remained even when he knew they were alone.

"You've gotten taller since I last saw you."

He closed his eyes at the unwavering voice.

He only had to last for an hour.

And it would be the longest hour of his life.

In.

Out.

Inhale.

Exhale.

Then...

Nothing.

His eyes opened, completely hollow as he turned to face the person the guards had seated in the seat opposite from his at the table.

A near mirror image bearing the same cold eyes that have seen more suffering and life than his own. He held an echo of what used to be a triumphant smirk, a well known trademark of his family. The hair was the same platinum blond, though more matted and riddled with the essence of imprisonment.

"Good evening. It's been too long, Draco."

 _Not long enough_ , he thought as he stared back into tired, vaguely deranged eyes.

"Good evening, father."

* * *

Hermione exhaled in exhaustion as she stared at her essay. Blaise and Theo had left shortly after they completed their respective assignments for Potions and Arithmancy. In the midst of their study session, Theo reached out to Hermione and asked for assistance regarding the subject which she was happy to agree to. She provided a few helpful tips which then sparked up a conversation to start having weekly tutoring sessions.

After their departure, she spent the majority of the afternoon in the same spot, working on the same assignment she was struggling to concentrate when she caused their potion to go ballistic. She had barely written two sentences before she heard Ginny return from a mental snack break with Luna in tow.

The two girls exchanged looks of concern before settling their gazes on the brunette. "Hermione, maybe you should take a break. You've been on that same paragraph for an hour now."

"I've almost got it. You two should go on and get dinner, I won't be long." From the corner of her eye, she could see Ginny's demeanor change.

"Come off it, Hermione. There's more to this. You aren't just diving into your work to be ambitious, you're doing this to forget something."

Hermione kept her head down, refusing to acknowledge the harsh reality of her words.

Or the urge within her to finally break.

Luna looked at her sadly. "Just tell her, Hermione."

"Tell me what." She stated more than asked.

"I'm busy, Ginny. We can talk about this later."

"No...n _o."_ Ginny extracted her wand and forcibly shifted her chair to turn and face her. Hermione looked up at her in surprise. "I know what that means and you are not delaying this any longer. I had a feeling you've been refusing to tell me something since the start of the year and I've let you get away with it all this time. We are discussing this _here_ and _now_."

Hermione shook her head stubbornly. "Ginny, there's nothing to tell."

"Stop lying and spit it out."

"I'm just trying to do my homework." Their voices were rising. She heard a faint _silencio_ in the background.

"No, you're being bloody stubborn!"

"No I'm not _—_ " Hermione stood from her chair sharply to face her head on but Ginny didn't retract.

"Hermione."

"No."

"Hermione."

"Ginny."

"Hermione."

"Stop it."

"Hermione."

"NO."

"Tell me what it is or I promise you, I will tell Blaise you fancied him fourth year."

"What!" She reddened, "N-no I didn't."

"Merlin, I really need to teach you how to lie. I _will_ do it, Hermione, now what are you keeping from me?"

"..."

"Come again?"

"...I can't."

"Can't _what?_ "

"I can't tell you."

"'Can't'? Or won't?"

"I _can't_." She could feel it.

The hole in her gut was returning.

"Why not?"

"I just...I just _can't_ , Ginny."

The hole was growing. Spreading.

"Because you're embarrassed?"

"No!"

_Yes._

"Because you're afraid I'll be upset with you?"

"Of course not."

_Yes._

"Or because you would be admitting the truth."

Her breath hitched. Defeated brown eyes met her determined ones.

She knew.

"I won't be upset. I've had my suspicions for a while now so just tell me. Please."

The hole had swept over her body, her legs giving out.

Luna wanded her chair forward slightly as Hermione collapsed onto it, mentally and emotionally drained.

"I wasn't sure before but I'm sure of it now."

Ginny leaned forward, supporting herself on the table between them while Luna sat back down next to her. "Sure of what?"

Hermione could feel it now. There was no running from it any longer. It was time.

"Ron and I. We're...we're finished."

It was out in the open. The truth. Her insecurity. Her fear.

"What happened?" Ginny asked, waiting patiently for Hermione to compose her answer.

Hermione sighed, putting her hands on her on the sides of her head as she rested her elbows on the table.

"It was good for a while once the battle was over. We finally had some time to ourselves, you know? Time to enjoy without the war or...or the constant threat of death lingering over our heads. We bickered when we were children because we didn't know what it meant at the time. Then we grew older and everything became...complicated. We inadvertently made the other jealous constantly and continued to fight and it was exhausting but for some reason, we still felt that attraction. Then when the trials were over, the time came for us to figure out what we wanted to do with ourselves. He wanted to become an auror. I wanted to come back to Hogwarts." She paused, carefully considering the direction she wanted to go next.

"So you had to discuss going separate ways. That's alright, Hermione. Long distance isn't for everyone _—_ " she reassured before Hermione shook her head regretfully.

"No...something else happened. Something I haven't told anyone. Not even Harry and I doubt Ronald told him knowing them. During the summer...there was a night, we...I thought we were ready. I thought I was ready."

A notion of comprehension spread across her face. "Oh Hermione..."

"Ever since then, things haven't been the same. We were never in the same room with each other alone. We couldn't look each other in the eye when we parted ways at the station."

"That bad, huh?" She joked.

"Honestly, I think I made him more nervous which didn't help. If anything, it showed we lacked chemistry. Like a flame, that attraction went out in an instant."

"He was your first, wasn't he?"

She nodded shyly as physical intimacy wasn't a thing she took lightly. She hadn't gone past kissing with Krum but with Ron, she gave him everything.

"The odd thing is...I don't regret it. He's a wonderful person, Ginny. He's kind and caring...selfless and loyal and I gave that up. We thought we had earned it. After all the time, the pain and jealousy we endured with other relationships and with the war, we thought we finally earned the right to be happy and find peace with each other. Clearly, we were wrong. _I_ was wrong."

Her breathing became laboured. Uneven. "I put my education first and he thought it was because he wasn't good enough."

Ginny motioned to argue but Luna stopped her. "You don't think he was right, do you?" she asked, lightly.

She shook her head and her vision became blurry. "No. I think if anything, I wasn't good enough for him..."

At long last, the insecurities she had been bottling up for so long were expelled. She felt hot. Angry. Frustrated. _Hurt_.

She could vaguely feel her body convulse as the sobs wrecked through her. She could feel Ginny rubbing her back as she held her.

"Come on. Let's go back to the dormitory." She said as she tried to lift her from her seat.

"But...the potion." Hermione protested weakly.

The last thing she needed was dealing with the repercussions of a temperamental Malfoy finding out she neglected to look after their assignment.

"I'm sure your potion can survive a night on its own. You need to take care of yourself, first."

* * *

Mere minutes felt like hours in the time they had been in each other's presence. Though both knew it not to be true as they were limited to only one hour of visitation. Lucius decided not to waste anymore time and broke the silence.

"How are classes going?"

"I received one of the highest grades on our first charms exam."

Much to his benefit, Lucius made no commentary on him having 'one of the highest' grades. He seemed to have more on his agenda for his prodigy. "What of quidditch? I heard you earned a spot on the team this year."

That's right. Earned. Not bought in. Not lucked in. _Earned_.

Draco had to force himself not to smile. "I did. Practice started a week ago."

"Seeker?"

He nodded.

Lucius hummed his approval. "Perhaps Slytherin can actually win this year."

He blinked. Was that...a compliment? A true, earnest compliment that didn't over exaggerate his abilities or their family name.

"Your first game is coming up in a few weeks' is it not? With Ravenclaw?

"Yes. You seem to be aware of the ongoings." He was becoming quite puzzled by this meeting.

"You forget, I have many eyes and ears on the other side of these walls." He reminded. "Several of your classmates joined you in returning this year, I take it."

Draco swallowed. "Yes, they did."

"And? How are they doing?"

"They are doing well. Nothing interesting to report."

" _Nothing_?" He drew out,

He furrowed his brow. "No."

"Very well. And your female friend? Her name escapes me..." he waved his hand in the air, apathetically.

He supposed it was better than 'Not-Pansy'. "Astoria _._ "

Lucius's smile made Draco uneasy. His slightly greasy hair only added to the unsettling effects. "Right... _Astoria._ " The elder chuckled darkly. "Trying to keep her away from your own father, I see."

"She wanted to come and say hello but she still had classes. I was not planning on this being a long visit."

He hummed in acknowledgement. "I suppose you do have to return to school at some point."

Draco nodded, his lips tight in a line.

"Then we best discuss the progress of your betrothal contract."

He scoffed. "I wouldn't expect anything less." he murmured.

"I take it you've been having your weekly meetings with the lady and the officiate?"

"Yes. Every Sunday."

Every Sunday came a boring day long meeting to discuss further details of what was required from the both of them and to ensure this was what they wanted given her young age. It was enforced mainly for her though most of the time, he knew otherwise.

"And you haven't had any doubts." The elder wizard questioned with a hint of judgement.

"Why do you ask?" His voice, even.

"Don't think I haven't noticed your hesitance to come see me."

"I've been busy." The youth retorted, shrugging his shoulders.

"Ah yes. Between classes and practice and your lady, I'm sure you have your hands full."

He didn't bring up his major assignment of the year which resulted in numerous evenings with another woman. Let alone who he was spending them with.

"I only hope you understand the severity of following through which would only be problematic if you've changed your mind."

"Who said I changed my mind?" He asked, rather defensively.

Lucius lifted his brow. "I am merely speaking hypothetically. I understand you're young but your mother and I were wedded at your age. Not only that, this agreement goes beyond you and her. I did not think I needed to stress the importance of your arrangement with Aurora—"

"Astoria—" he corrected but Lucius ignored him.

"—and as much as I detest the Greengrass bloodline, I suppose it will better the family name, though only just." At his words, Draco's head snapped up instantly.

Lucius watched curiously as the fire in his son's eyes was set ablaze.

"I should've known that was your intention all along when you sent me that letter. To...use me to restore the family name. It was never about my happiness." he accused, angrily.

The elder looked sharply at him. "I will remind you in my letter, it was merely a _suggestion_. And do not pin this on me, Draco. You're the one who chose her. She's not exactly who I would have selected to be your bride."

That much was true.

Three months ago, he received a letter from his father while he remained imprisoned. While the letter enclosed wished him the best without him present, he recommended he make the most of his time outside and to potentially seek out a bride. During this time, he had been bonding with Astoria, spending several evenings discussing their changed opinions on muggle-borns and his regret for participating in the war. Fully aware of her budding feelings for him and her familiarity with Pureblood traditions, Draco pitched the idea of a betrothal contract to which she enthusiastically said yes.

"Well, if we're taking into account the wide variety of purebloods at my disposal—" He retorted, sarcastically.

"So there is someone _else_ you desire." Lucius noted.

"What?" Draco hissed, annoyed. "That is preposterous _—_ "

"Do not lie to me, Draco." Lucius warned.

"I'm not lying." He stated with a tone of finality. "There's no one else."

"You're telling me you still have the same feelings for Astoria as you had over the summer. She's still the girl—I mean _woman_ you wish to wed and nothing has changed since then."

Whether it be for his sake or for his mother's, deep down, he knew what he had to do. It was a role he grew accustomed to since his father was sent away the first time when he was a mere sixteen year old boy who was forced to find his own way in the world.

"Yes."

His father kept a firm eye on him for a minute before conceding.

"Very well. It is _your_ choice in the end."

His rage withered at hearing those words again.

' _Your choice._ '

"Draco. When you see your mother, please ask her to stop by when she can." His voice was suddenly far away. "I do miss my wife from time to time and it does get rather dreary around here."

At the mention of his mother, his fists clenched and his expression darkened.

"No, I don't think I will." he replied, coldly.

Lucius looked at him in shock. "I beg your pardon?"

"If she wanted to come, she would be here. You can bully me all you want but you will leave Mother out of this."

"You dare speak to me that way—"

Draco stood up, his chair scraping loudly across the floor. "You're the one behind bars here, remember? Everything I have done so far in my life, I have done for you and mother, regardless of what it meant for me. So for once in this damned life, _I_ am going to speak and _you_ are going to listen."

Neither of the two had any idea where this newfound confidence was coming from but he sure as hell wasn't going to stop now.

Lucius narrowed his eyes as he settled into his seat. He cleared his throat as he held his cuffed hands out in front of him and laced his fingers. "I'm listening."

"Do you have _any_ idea how this war has affected Mother and I? We stood by you. We trusted you to be the head of our family. From when I was a child, you told me we were destined for greatness. That I should be proud to be a Malfoy; one of the oldest, renowned, Pureblood families in history. All my life, I emulated you. I worshipped you. I stood up for you despite disagreeing with your views when I was old enough to have my own. Only now do I see what a grave mistake I've made by doing so."

Draco paused, inhaling deeply to calm his rapid heart rate.

"Now that she's finally doing well for herself, I'm not letting you anywhere near her."

Lucius chuckled darkly. "And you think you can suddenly make these decisions? Me be away for a year and you're suddenly man of the house? You haven't a clue what I've done for this family. Despite what you may think of me, I am still your father, Draco. Do not forget yourself."

"The year you were imprisoned was difficult for us. It was the year I had to grow up. To adapt. The Dark Lord tasked me with the impossible and instead of spending my year in school learning or with my friends, I spent it coming up with ways to assassinate the Headmaster. It nearly drove me mad. You weren't around for mother so I had to fend for her while her husband was put away for crimes she didn't even want to be involved in."

"Your mother knew exactly what she signed up for when we were married." Lucius reminded him. "She knew the life she would be wedded into and she stood by my side like the perfect wife she still is. Everything I've done, I've done for you and for her. I gave you all the finest things you could ever ask for—"

"Was I supposed to thank you?" he asked, incredulous. "All because you gave me the nicest broom every year? Or forced Dobby to cook me such lavish meals that people like the Weasleys had never even heard of?"

"I provided you a life of privilege and discipline." Lucius argued, noticeably agitated. "A life many have dreamed of and you took it all for granted—"

"Do you know why I've always been an exceptional liar?" Draco interrupted smoothly. "Do you know why I was able to deceive the greatest wizard of all time? It's true that Auntie Bella trained me well when the time came. But from a young age, I was raised to believe the world owed me everything because of my name. I was raised to believe everyone was beneath me and that I could do no wrong. I am incapable of feeling resentment because I never had to before. Auntie Bella was impressed with how quickly I learned occulmency but I knew it was because of my inability to empathize. I was only taught how to respond to power..." his breathing wavered when he added, "—and fear."

Lucius pressed his lips together, pondering on his descendant's admissions. "I know I've been hard on you over the years. I should mention I was reached out by your Professor Lupin your third year when his boggart experiment for you turned into me. I'm well aware of the fear I implemented onto you as a child—"

"I'm not afraid of you." Draco countered.

"Try as you may, I know there is a part that still is, Draco. Even you can't hide that behind your wall."

While Draco's expression didn't falter, he could see his posture tense. "Because I know you. There's always another incentive. Another scheme planned for your benefit. Mother has been a victim of it for years and she has suffered enough from the poor choices you made by putting us in harm's way for far too long.

"If you feel this strongly, then why are you here?" he drawled impassively. "Clearly you obtained special permission to leave school grounds and I know they didn't come from me."

Draco shook his head and smirked, though this wasn't one riddled with mischief. It was frigid. If the situation had been different, Lucius would have been proud of him.

"I only came to tell you I want no part of any more of your plans. I know you have people outside these walls who could do your bidding for you but you will be leaving mother and I out of it. It also pains me to say you are right in saying our family name is in shambles and I aim to repair it in any way I can without your contributions."

"By marrying that Greengrass girl." he stated, unconvinced. "You realize she's barking mad _—_ "

"I'm aware." He said, thinking back on the times he's witnessed her mouthing off his friends or that random girl flirting with him in Hogsmeade when she thought he wasn't present. "But she's one of the few who is able to look me in the eye without fear or repulse. Come to find, her views on half bloods and muggle-borns are exactly what I wish to implement in reforming our name. If that's what it takes, then I will do it. She's already smitten with me, anyway."

Lucius' face fell, defeated. "You're actually following through with the contract."

"I am."

"This was not what I intended when I sent that letter _—_ "

"I know. We're still young and I do believe I could learn to love her one day. Regardless, I am going to fix the damage you caused," He pointed while he remained standing. " _—_ and we don't need you to cause any more anguish in our lives." Draco backed away from the table and headed for the door. He knew he still had fifteen minutes left. But he had said all that he needed to.

"Wait, _wait_. Draco, come back here. Don't you dare walk away from me! I haven't finished speaking with you."

He halted with one foot out the door. "Forgive me for taking my leave a tad early, Father. But I'm done listening."

Without another word, he placed himself on the other side and the door slammed shut.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: I LIIIIIVE! *insert Mushu gif here* Many profuse apologies for the delay but I hope this chapter was worth it because it's the longest one yet :)


	12. The Challenge

**September 25, 1998**

At lunch, Hermione leisurely sipped on her pumpkin soup while she caught up on a reading for her next class. As her eyes freely trailed along the pages, she couldn't remember the last time she felt so...at peace.

True to her word, Ginny and Luna escorted her back to Gryffindor Tower where she continued dispelling the inner turmoils that plagued her the past couple of months, all ranging from her failed relationship to her ambiguous future. With each word that passed through her lips, she felt lighter and lighter as the burdens were gradually released.

Later into the conversation, Ginny openly expressed her own deprivations for the first time since the school year began.

_"I know I should be enjoying myself but I can't help but miss him." She admitted with a twinge of guilt._

_"You're allowed to feel that way, Ginny." Hermione reassured. "You've been keeping touch with him, haven't you?" She prompted, recalling the few letters she received from her best friend._

_"We were sending owls but since his workload picked up and with quidditch season starting, we've been getting later and later with our responses." Ginny responded, dejected. "Sorry, I'm not used to feeling like this, I suppose. I shouldn't complain. He's out in the real world now, working and helping others with cases that actually matter."_

_"You know...Harry has always been like an open book_ — _"_

_Luna's soft voice made them both turn their heads to where she sat at the window sill, gazing at the mountains in the far distance._

_"He never leaves you questioning about how he feels because he knows life is too precious to spend it second guessing or being unhappy." She paused, turning away from the window to look at their shared display of awe, smiling at them. "He never means any harm and hates feeling like a burden to those he cares about. I find that rather endearing about him."_

_"She's right." Hermione clarified. "And his letters, late or otherwise, should tell you you're still on his mind even when he's preoccupied. On the other hand, he may also be trying to give you space; to let you enjoy your time here like he wasn't able to."_

Hermione had considered the choices her and her friends made in their respective situations. While Harry had the same opportunity to complete his seventh year of school and his N.E.W.T.s, in the end, she knew he needed a new start. Not to mention how relieved he was to have some form of normalcy after having a mad, dark wizard attempting to put an end to his prophecy for longer than he'd been alive.

Thankfully, it didn't take much to convince Ginny otherwise. Beyond being an exceptional wizard, Harry was also a compassionate and loyal friend as he's proven time and time again. For Ginny, those qualities only intensified when they restarted their relationship a few months ago. She couldn't find it in herself to be upset with him, only that she missed his presence and occasional reminders of his affections, which Hermione could understand given the lack of her usual companions causing their daily mischief.

With Ginny's spirits lifted, they saw it fit to transition to Luna, altering their attempts in disclosing a minor detail or two regarding what occurred between her and Neville despite her insisting that nothing significant occurred. Hermione made note that if she was hesitant of disclosing any details regarding Neville, she certainly wasn't shy to illustrate her fondness for potions partner's optimism and mutual passions.

His family name was no stranger to anyone at Hogwarts. Rolf, like Luna, was a bit of an odd duck but otherwise was well known for his predecessors and wished for nothing more than to live up to their legacy; to explore the world and learn all there was to know about magical creatures and how to care for them. With their lighthearted personalities, Hermione and Ginny assumed they would have sought each other in a more romantic manner almost immediately. Ginny mentioned he wasn't hurting in his looks, either. Luna did not acknowledge either accusation, simply stating they were only good friends before calling it an evening and going back to her own dorm room.

Before she left, Hermione could have sworn she saw the faintest glimpse of red on the tops of her cheeks.

Shortly after Luna's departure, Hermione headed for the astronomy tower in record timing. By the time she reached the tops of the stairs to their selected room, she had mentally prepared for the worst. It relieved her to no end to see the potion hadn't undergone any significant changes as she dropped herself on a seat with a faint heart, adrenaline subsiding fast. Thinking back, she mentally thanked Ginny for making the right call, knowing she probably would have caused the potion to combust if she showed up in hysterics.

She stayed for a few hours to finish the last of her alchemy essay before calling it a night. Right before she left, she briskly scribbled a note on their workspace for Malfoy which documented no changes had occurred in the event she wouldn't get a chance to tell him with how elusive he'd been recently.

Overall, it was an eventful night, but a productive one.

Taken out of her thoughts, Hermione looked up from her book when Ginny and another seventh year girl joined her at the table. The same girl they saw with Malfoy during their first trip to Hogsmeade this year. Elena, Hermione was told her name was.

Ginny had approached her in study hall earlier this week when she recognized her in passing, admitting that she had been in their classes but always sat in the back to avoid drawing too much attention. Come to find beyond her initial bashful exterior, she was a kind and friendly witch, true to her nature of being a Hufflepuff. Elena started out having a bit of a fangirl persona, mostly in awe of their contributions to the war before settling and forming an alliance with them.

Hermione continued to read as the duo chattered on about classes and upcoming exams until a few words of interest stole her attention;

"—Greeves failed me on my essay because it had an extra roll of parchment."

"Why did you have an extra roll?" Ginny questioned.

"My essay was a paragraph too long and I didn't think he would penalize me so harshly for it," Elena reasoned. "Besides, 'two rolls of parchment' usually means _at least_ two, not _only_ two."

Ginny shrugged her shoulders while she sipped on her tea. "So he's a bit strict. Still better than Snape in my honest opinion."

"Snape would have been pleased. I never thought I would be punished for doing _more_ work."

That was something Hermione could relate to.

Since Professor Snape, she had yet to see another Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher who she felt had a chance of staying longer than a year until now. Professor Edmond Greeves was a former auror who while assisting with trials over the summer was approached by McGonagall regarding the position. Much to Hermione's benefit, he was exceptionally knowledgeable and was capable of maintaining an unyielding environment in the classroom. Though much to the dismay of many — including Hermione as of recent — he was notorious for being stern and oddly particular about assignments.

"I've seen him smile, at least." Ginny offered. "Does that mean you're coming tomorrow then? For extra credit?"

Elena groaned dejectedly. "I have to if I want to pass his class! But to duel with our peers when they're trying to advocate friendly interactions?" She emphasized dubiously, fighting not to laugh at the inanity of the suggestion. "It seems hypocritical if you ask me. Wouldn't you agree, Hermione?"

Hermione paused reading mid-sentence to look up as they eagerly waited for her response.

She sighed, "I don't, actually."

"Really?" Ginny's surprise in her answer was evident. "Care to share with the rest of the class?"

Hermione marked her place in the book before closing it shut as it was clear she was not going to be able to get anymore reading done.

"After everything we've seen and with what we were forced to endure as students, I know what extremes the enemy is willing to take to get what they want. We were neglected the chance to learn necessary defense mechanisms for the impeding threat — a threat we all knew was coming." She answered simply. "Voldemort may be gone but that doesn't mean there won't be another threat come up to try and take his place. If you ask me, there's no better time and place than to do it in a safe, controlled environment with our friends."

"She does have a point," Ginny agreed without question. "I'd rather be prepared this time around. I don't exactly like being played a fool, let alone a second time."

"But so soon after the war?" Elena countered. "You don't think he's a little...I dunno, mad for doing this?"

"The entire operation is optional for those who wish to participate." Hermione assured her while pulling her bowl of cold soup closer. "His motives may be his own but I am all for teaching younger students how to block unfriendly spells. Like Harry did for us" —she gestured to Ginny and herself— "when Umbridge was Headmaster."

Ginny made a sound of revulsion, wincing at the thought. "Don't remind me, that woman was more unpleasant than troll fungus."

"Does that mean you'll be participating?" Elena enthused.

She nodded, smiling lightly. "Dueling isn't exactly something that can easily be studied through books, you know." Seeing as Defense Against the Dark Arts was the only class she struggled to get an Outstanding in, she also viewed it as the perfect opportunity to take advantage of given her previous experiences.

"Well, if you get pinned against Blaise, feel free to get a solid whack in. He could use it with how he's been slacking in our potions meetings." Ginny winked at her.

She laughed lightheartedly. "He'll have to get in line."

"Fair point. Guess he'd better not put you and Malfoy together or that'd be the end of us," Ginny joked.

Hermione froze with a spoonful of soup halfway to her lips. "What did you—?" she trailed off.

Sign ups for the extra credit opportunity became available this morning and she hadn't even heard from Malfoy the last two days...

"Oh Malfoy," Elena sighed dreamily. "You're a lucky girl, Hermione."

Ginny let out a bark of laughter. "See 'Mione? She gets it. But I wouldn't let Greengrass hear you. I'm pretty sure that girl is in the process of becoming unhinged."

"Oh no, I'm not looking for trouble." She raised both of her hands in defense, horrified at the thought. "I just want a pretty face to admire, not his last name—"

"Sorry, did you just say Malfoy?" Hermione interrupted smoothly.

"Yeah? He's participating, too. Did you not know? Blaise told me this morning when I asked." Ginny clarified, giving her a questioning glance.

"This morning..." She echoed, frowning. He didn't come to class this morning.

Hermione paused for a moment to consider her words. Was he avoiding her? Had she done something to offend him? Or was he dragging her along to see how far he could get with getting her to do all the dirty work? The aggravating part was...all of those were likely possibilities.

Hermione swiftly stood from her seat. "Mione?" Ginny tried, "hold on a minute, Luna hasn't showed up yet. And your soup—"

"You can have it." She answered, eyes darting about the room until she spotted who she was searching for.

"But where are you going?" Ginny asked, watching as she hurriedly collected her belongings.

"I need to chase down a snake—" she stated as she curled her lip, feeling a rush of determination.

With that, she left her seat, leaving them and her pumpkin soup behind as she waltzed over to the table Slytherin students typically occupied. The slight heels of her platform shoes clicked across the Great Hall as she made her way over to the table where Blaise and Theo sat, visibly deep in a game of Wizard's Chess.

"Knight to B5." Blaise instructed before looking up briefly to address their company as she stepped up to them. "Ah Granger. Come to dwell in the magnificence of wizard's chess?"

"Have either of you seen Malfoy?" She implored, ignoring him.

Theo, on the other hand, hadn't taken his attention away from the chessboard. "Draco?" he asked distractedly. "Sure, he's having tea with his—"

"—his _female companion_." Blaise interrupted as he gestured for her to come closer. She leaned forward so he was within earshot. "But between you and me—" he mumbled quietly, "he wasn't sure if he was going to be able to make it to your potion tonight."

She straightened her form as her eyes narrowed at his words. "Is that so?"

"He seemed a tad preoccupied by her if you know what I mean. I wouldn't be surprised if he blew off your potion completely..." He supplied flippantly, disregarding Theo's baffled expression.

With that statement, she came to the conclusion that all three of her assumptions were true. Somehow, he found the time to participate in a voluntary duel and a time-consuming sport but none to spare for their potion. Crazed girlfriend or not, the consequences were less dire when compared to having a poor grade as a N.E.W.T.-level student.

"Where is he?" Her tone was even which contrasted with her internal fuming.

Theo grimaced at her suppressed, yet escalating aggravation, "He's in the courtyard."

Without another word, Hermione turned her heel and stormed off to begin her search, leaving Theo and Blaise to their game.

"Did you really have to do that?" Theo asked, exasperated as he watched her retreating form while Blaise shifted back to the game, concentration returning to his features.

"Dunno what you're talking about." He replied, feigning disinterest. "Your move."

"Ohhh mate..." Theo groaned, palming his face as the reality of the situation hit him. "He's not going to like this."

Blaise simply smirked.

"Your move, Nott."

* * *

She was hidden out of sight by the archway when she eventually spotted him.

He was seated at a table in a secluded corner of the courtyard, away from any prying eyes. His alleged 'female companion' was out of view by the entryway but she could see him in his entirety. A rare smile dawned his features. Like he was enjoying himself. The sight could have been considered stunning by most. Perhaps even by her if she weren't a woman scorned.

As she left her spot and approached him, she kept her lips pursed to prevent herself from yelling before arriving at his table. Little did she know that plan would fail her as soon his eyes locked onto her. His smile faded and he became motionless, seeing her there. Her restraint shattered.

" _You!"_ She seethed once she was within range for him to hear. "So glad to see you're enjoying yourself. In case you've forgotten, we had an agreement. Instead you're leaving me to do all the work because you're too busy making social calls with—" she went rigid when she passed the entryway to see his female companion was not who she expected.

No.

Astoria wasn't clear-cut like this woman was.

...or nearly as formidable.

...or this distinctly _blonde_.

Hermione was mortified. The last time she had seen this woman was at his trial. The jury and onlookers disbanded shortly after they declared his year-long probation. While she waited in the hallway for him to be dismissed, she stopped Hermione in her tracks as she attempted to take her own exit. This woman looked at her without a layer of absolute disgust for the first time and thanked her, smiling softly as she did so. It was a gesture she never expected to receive from this family in this lifetime...

A gesture of respect.

Respect she probably lost as soon as she stepped foot in the courtyard.

"My sincerest apologies, Mrs. Malfoy. I-I didn't mean to intrude." Hermione stammered, suffering from pure embarrassment, a sensation she had become too familiar with this year.

To her credit, Narcissa's initial expression of shock subsided with substantial timing given the circumstances. "That's alright, Miss Granger. Did you need Draco for something?" She asked graciously.

She inhaled deeply to calm her nerves before proceeding to answer in what she hoped was a professional tone.

"Not exactly," she tread carefully. "He and I are partners for a project and I seem to have reached an impasse..." She eyed him dangerously. He continued to sip his tea innocently, avoiding eye contact.

"You look positively knackered, Miss Granger," she recognized, as only a mother could. "I imagine you're working yourself too hard, why don't you join us?"

Draco choked on his tea mid-sip.

Hermione was speechless.

"I-I that's so...but I can't...what I mean is—" she struggled to reply.

Draco patted his mouth with a napkin and said, "I believe the answer she is trying to convey is 'no', mother. She doesn't like to be distracted from her school assignments. Besides, I don't think English Breakfast is quite" — he glared at her with narrow eyes, critiquing — " _her style._ "

Suddenly recovered from her distress, she turned to address him. "I can answer for myself, thanks."

"Yes, and you're doing such a fantastic job." He quipped, feigning apathy.

" _Don't_ patronize me, Malfoy," she demanded, clenching her small hands into fists. "I won't be belittled—"

"—and I won't be disrespected in the presence of my mother, Granger." He snapped, positively bristling as he stood abruptly from his seat.

" _Dearest, sit down_ —" Narcissa quietly scolded him but he didn't seem to notice.

"None of this would be happening if you stayed true to our agreement," she said crisply as she put her hands on her hips.

"Unlikely," he huffed a sarcastic laugh, "seeing as you'll undoubtedly always find a way to be infuriating because as I already told you, I have other obligations."

"There seems to be a never-ending list of these 'obligations' of yours—"

"This may come as a surprise to you, but there are others who have a life outside of school," he taunted, glowering at her from where he stood behind the table. "Maybe you'll learn what that's like one day—"

They continued their quarrel, momentarily forgetting they had an audience. Narcissa had her teacup halfway to her lips, awestruck at Hermione's bluntness towards her child. Normally, she would deem it unacceptable to speak to her son in such a manner. Peculiarly enough, she found herself unable to intervene as the two continued to shout their belligerent oppositions.

"How interesting..." she noted softly as her eyes shifted between the two irate youths in front of her, paying particular attention to the growing fire in her son's eyes. Nonetheless, they resumed their arguments, seemingly oblivious to her commentary.

Eventually she spoke up, using a tone she knew he wouldn't mistake. "Draco, dear?"

Instantly, he stopped and switched his attention over to her. She cleared her throat, setting her teacup delicately on her saucer. "Perhaps it would be best to hear what Miss Granger came to say? In the event you want to be on time for your next class," she offered gently, looking pointedly at Draco until he took his seat before shifting over to Hermione.

Now with two sets of eyes on her — one attentive and the other scornful — she suddenly felt her heart leap to her throat. "Oh...well...I came to make sure you were fit to watch over the potion tonight. I was under the impression you weren't able to do so." She finished lamely.

She knew judging by the befuddled look he gave her that she had been led astray in more ways than one.

"What in blazes gave you that id—" recognition dawned on his face.

He had come to the same conclusion as her.

Blaise.

Malfoy sighed, glancing at her in frustration. "Yes. I'll be there."

"Wonderful." Hermione exhaled, instantly regretting being so forward. "Sorry to bother you Mrs. Malfoy, it was lovely to see you again." She smiled awkwardly at the elder while avoiding eye contact as the tension built within.

"Likewise, dear." Narcissa smiled, tipping her cup at her before taking a long sip.

Then she looked at the younger Malfoy who brooded in his seat.

"I'll see you in class, then." She tested, only turning to leave when he responded with a tense nod.

"That witch is quite the force to be reckoned with, isn't she?" Narcissa noted as she walked away.

"A constant pain in my arse is more like it..." Draco muttered under his breath.

" _Language,_ darling..." She merely rolled her eyes at him as she sipped the last of her tea, suddenly being reminded of why she did not miss being an adolescent.

* * *

**September 26, 1998**

"So the pixie dust should be added before or after the peak of saturation...?"

"Correct." Hermione confirmed, pointing to the hand-drawn graph in her old notes. "This potion is one of the few that is done this way. In your case, you won't have as much of a reaction from the dust and you'll end up with a plain erumpent potion which you don't want."

"Perfect," she said as she scribbled the feedback before glancing up at Hermione. "Thanks for the help, Granger."

"Anytime." Hermione smiled at her as the Ravenclaw stood and departed study hall. Almost immediately, Theo returned from his brief restroom break and took his place beside her as she packed her old potions notes away.

"Were you just talking to Cabbott?" He asked.

"One of them, yes." She supplied, closing an arithmancy textbook and tossing it in her bag.

"What did she want?" He prompted.

"She had a question about your potion." Hermione responded. "Why so inquisitive?"

"She's barmy, that's why. She has this weird urge to complete the potion before the first quidditch match in a few weeks when the deadline isn't for another few months."

"Maybe she's just ambitious and doesn't want to have to dwell on it when the season starts. It's an aggressive potion, disastrous if done incorrectly," she supplemented as she packed the last of her items.

"I know," Theo agreed grimly. "Slughorn warned us about that. I still think she's mad." His gaze flicking to the doorway his partner exited through.

"Honestly, I think we're all a little mad here. Wouldn't you agree?" Hermione remarked with a furtive smile while closing her bag shut.

He shrugged, glancing at her packed bag. "Is our study session over?"

"We have the extra credit session with Greeves, remember?" She recalled as she put her bag on her shoulder.

In an instant, Theo closed all of his books and threw them into his bag haphazardly.

The pair rushed toward the Great Hall where the event would be taking place. When they arrived, the room had been redone similarly to the way it was their second year except the herd of people gathering was significantly larger and older than before. They perused the crowd as they searched for familiar faces.

"How did everything go with him, yesterday?" Theo asked pointedly, gesturing to the blond entering the room with Blaise that very moment.

Hermione inhaled deeply. "Most excellent," she quipped. "I had a wonderful chat with his mother as well." She added bitterly.

Theo grimaced. "So I heard."

"Zabini had better hope he doesn't get pinned against me," she warned disdainfully, glaring at him from a distance.

"I'll be sure to tell him to keep his distance." He threw her a half smile as he left her to join them.

Minutes later, Hermione was joined by Ginny and Luna and Greeves fell in shortly after with McGonagall in tow.

"Evening, everyone." His voice rumbled throughout the room, making everyone silent.

"First, I'd like to thank you all for coming. As you all know, I have been granted permission by our lovely headmaster to restart an old idea that was passed around years ago," he gestured behind him to McGonagall who nodded for him to continue. "Now, some of you may remember this 'dueling club' that was started by your professor at the time," he paused briefly as he stepped onto the large platform. "Lockhart had the right idea, which truthfully was also probably taken from someone else, but today we will be a little different."

"Today will be a test to showcase your skills you've acquired over the years. And I don't mean transfiguring animals or daily chores, which are all important. But your skills on casting and blocking spells will be what is valued. A few rules to address. I shouldn't have to say this though after last year's events, I feel the need to make it clear." His voice had gotten dangerously low.

"No unforgivables. _None_."

Hermione glanced over to where Malfoy stood with Blaise and Theo, watching curiously as they both flinched and he remained static, perfectly composed.

"Any conjuring of the sort and you will be sent out of here quicker than you can say 'Azkaban'. Secondly, your goal is to disarm your opponent. This can be done in a number of ways; you can race to be the first to cast the disarming charm though feel free to get creative. Just a reminder that all spells must be _nonverbal_. Thirdly, remember that this is a learning environment. This isn't a battle. This isn't a competition. Perhaps, think of it as a way to challenge yourself; to enhance your skills as a wizard among your peers. Any questions?" He looked around the room.

No one raised their hands.

"Terrific. Now, who would like to go first?"

Again, no one raised their hands.

He chuckled lightly, "I had a feeling this would happen. No one usually likes to go first." He joked. "Not to worry, I'll select one of you instead." His eyes darted about the crowd around him until he found someone substantial.

"Ah, Miss Trueblood. How about you?" He gestured to Elena whose eyes nearly bulged out of her head, almost pleading from where she stood with her friends from Hufflepuff.

"Come on, don't be shy. You'll be alright," he assured her, waving for her to come up.

She visibly swallowed as she made her way onto the platform, extracting her wand from her robe pocket.

"Now, Professor Sprout tells me you're one of the few from her bundle who managed to endure Carrow's manic class last year, is that right?" He asked, genuinely fascinated.

She nodded timidly. "Y-yes sir."

Amazed, Hermione turned to Ginny who shrugged helplessly. " _She had to do what she could to survive_ ," she whispered.

"Well, what are you waiting for? Take a crack at it." He encouraged, awaiting her move.

With that, the first spell of the evening was cast.

Much to Hermione's surprise, she held her own quite well as the challenge progressed. One would even think she had trained with Harry when they still ran under the title of 'Dumbledore's Army.'

While it was clear who had more years of experience and a greater number of spells at their disposal, her endurance gave her the advantage. He was starting to lag in his movements and that's when Hermione noticed it; an opening for her to cast a quick disarming charm and in that moment, she won a duel against a former auror.

There was a moment of silence before everyone erupted in a thunderous applause. Elena panted and studied the room in her current state of surprise, a wide grin spread as reality finally sunk in. Hermione thought she saw Blaise from the corner of her eye nod approvingly.

Greeves walked up to where she stood, holding his hand out for her to shake.

"Well done, Miss Trueblood." He panted heavily, smiling down at her when she took his hand. "I'm really getting too old for this. Now—" he paused as he recovered, bracing himself on his knees, "who's next?"

* * *

The next hour was filled with duels of all types, lengths and outcomes. Some were short and brief, as many were limited with how many spells they were able to conjure nonverbally. Most match ups were between pairs who knew each other, whether it be friends, siblings or enemies. The only 'rivalry' of sorts taking place was between Ginny and Blaise (which unfortunately came to a draw since Ginny reduced his wand to ashes.)

At one point during their duel, Hermione felt a shiver run through the back of her neck; feeling as though someone were watching her. She pivoted her attention to the head of the platform, only to find Greeves talking McGonagall discreetly while Ginny and Blaise fought. She shrugged it off, continuing to watch them and neglecting to check the other end of the platform where she would have met a pair of silver eyes.

"Excellent work, everyone. Believe me, this opportunity will be a saving grace for some of you," he remarked knowingly. "Now, I'd like to take a break from volunteers at this point." He announced, glancing over to McGonagall who nodded wordlessly as a silent conversation partook between them. Hermione watched them with interest, wondering what they could be discussing. It wasn't until he spoke his next words that she realized what it was;

"Miss Granger and Mister Malfoy," he called, flickering his gaze between them on opposite sides of the room. "Care to share the floor?"

Rampant whispers were scattered and red spread on the tops of Hermione's cheeks as the reality of his words hit her.

This was a bad idea.

A _very_ bad idea.

What was he thinking?

Better yet, what was McGonagall thinking?

Feeling herself being physically shaken out of her stupor, Hermione looked up to be greeted by Ginny's frantic expression. "Mione, go on," she hustled, "they're waiting on you."

Cautiously, she left her place in the crowd and made her way to the head of the platform, feeling eyes watching her every move as she ascended. She took her eyes off the floor and looked up to meet his attentive gaze at the other end where he stood; calm and collected with his walls firmly in place.

Hermione exhaled shakily, already feeling her palms become clammy as she forced herself to remain steady. Suddenly, she recalled something Ginny said to her at the pitch not long ago;

_It was actually helpful practicing with him because I never had to hold back..._

_I think you could use him to your advantage..._

She could do this.

What choice did she have?

"Wands at the ready." Greeves instructed. Fluidly, they extracted their wands and took defensive stances.

"Ready? One...two...three."

Keeping all her focus on him, she could see milliseconds before he cast the first spell.

They started out with simple spells at first which may have appeared to be for aesthetics and for show to the audience. But from practicing on her own and with Harry's occasional references to his quidditch routine, Hermione knew it was only a warm up.

As she concentrated with every flick of her wrist, the spells they unleashed danced around each other in an almost playful, teasing manner before canceling out one another. She could make out his mouth twitching when their audience marveled at their display of magic interacting.

Then it all stopped when he finally tried to disarm her.

She blocked it quickly, seeing something ignite within him that she hadn't seen before. Consequently, his fluid movements became aggressive as hatred and turmoil took over his judgement.

The duel had begun.

Hermione was able to get a few spells out though she spent most of the duration on the defensive as he cast hex after hex. She blocked them all with ease, though was not able to foresee a window to disarm him successfully in the not-so-distant future. In between the hexes he threw at her, she could see glimpses into him, feeling random fragments of emotion hit her:

A wave of confusion.

A dull ache.

 _A_ longing regret.

Realizing she needed to catch him off guard somehow, she went with the first option she thought of.

Casting one final _protego,_ Hermione closed her eyes and let herself feel the happiest moments she could think of;

_Receiving her acceptance letter to Hogwarts._

_Seeing her parents for the holidays._

_Befriending Harry and Ron._

She waved her wand in a circular motion around and above herself, letting her pent up energy break free at the apex of the final swish. A cheerful otter sprang free from the tip of her wand, zipping through the air and darting about the room with elegance as it rapidly closed in on its target.

Once the otter was a few feet away, it dove freely, taking direct aim for him. Malfoy could do nothing but brace himself and let the spell hit him, feeling his insides churn as her patronus dispersed into a blast of white, shimmering light throughout the room.

He braced his chest and fell to his knees from the force of the impact, his wand clattering to the floor.

She won.

She took note of movements in her peripheral; arms were waiving. Hands were clapping. People were cheering. But it was all blurred in the back of her mind for all she could focus on was the boy on his knees in front of her.

Hermione could see as he was in the middle of recovering, his protective barriers had been shattered. Taking a step closer, she felt compelled to look as a chilling sensation crept around her. Unfortunately, she didn't get far. As soon as she breached the barriers, he jerked his head up and narrowed his eyes dangerously at her. She felt a sharp pain compress her mind as the frigid aura vanished.

What just happened?

"Full marks, Miss Granger. And to you as well Mister Malfoy. That was quite the display you two had." Hermione blinked, speechless at what just occurred and paid Greeves no mind as she heard him ask for the next set of volunteers.

Her eyes didn't drift from Malfoy as he shakily got on his feet and made his exit from the room without another word, one hand over where he was hit.

Without thinking, she hopped off the platform and took off after him.

"Hermione, wait—" Ginny tried to stop her.

 _Let her go._ She heard Luna say before she darted after the retreating wizard. Passing the entryway, she darted her head from side to side in search of him, eventually catching a glimpse of blond hair disappearing around the corner.

"Malfoy!" She called, taking off after him. She had rounded the corner and within a few steps, she was in ear's reach of him. "Wait!" She tried again.

"Stay away from me," he hissed.

"Malfoy, hold on a minute."

"I said go away, Granger." He spat hauntingly at her as he continued to stride down the hallway, turning another corner.

After a few more quick steps, she finally caught up to him, darting in front of him to barricade his exit into the next corridor.

"What the hell—"

"We need to talk about this," she panted, catching her breath. "Are you alri—" She yelped as she was suddenly jerked by the arm into an empty classroom nearby. She steadied herself on a desk as she was thrown in, with him slamming the door shut.

"You want to talk? Fine. Let's _talk_." She refused to flinch when he vigorously waved his wand to lock the door behind them.

"I told you from the beginning to stay away, Granger. That means stay. The fuck. Away." He snapped warningly.

"We're partners, Malfoy," she reminded him, "we can't ignore each other forever."

"We have our assignment. We have an arrangement. We've proven that we don't need to be together until the next full moon. If you ask me, all signs point to us keeping our distance." He emphasized.

If she were being reasonable, she would agree and know to stop there. But for some unknown reason, she felt the urge to resume pressing. "Why do you push everyone away?"

He palmed his forehead, becoming luminous with impatience "What did I just fucking say—"

"The war is over, Malfoy," she reminded. "The threats that lingered over us are gone, yet you still refuse to let anyone help you."

"I don't need any help—" he countered stubbornly.

"And what about Astoria? You're probably worrying her sick with your secrecy and these burdens you refuse to—" She only paused when he held a hand up.

"Firstly, she's not my girlfriend," he corrected.

"Clearly. You don't even want to be in the same room as her," she acknowledged.

"Should tell you how much I don't want to be in the same room as you. _Secondly_ ," he pressed. "I don't need you evaluating my life and my choices. The last thing I need is pity. Especially from you."

"I'm not pitying you—"

" _Aren't you?"_ She recoiled slightly when he raised his voice. "You and your little group of do-gooders. You're always trying to play the hero; always trying to do the right thing and fix everyone's problems because you think life should be fair. Well not everything can be fixed. Why? Because life is fucked like that. Not everyone wins, Granger. Why can't you understand that?"

"But that's not—"

"— _I'm_ _not finished_." He cut her off sharply. "The three of you have been pulling this shite for years: meddling in everyone else's business and sticking your nose where you shouldn't. I've suffered repercussions from the lot of you trying to do the right thing. Potter and Weasley aren't even here so why do you bother? I figure with those two out of the way, you would learn to not muck about."

"Don't talk about them like that—" he ignored her and kept on.

"I didn't expect to be in this situation but since I'm apparently the substitute to compensate for those slacking, pathetic excuse for wizards—"

"Malfoy, stop. I'm warning you—"

"I mean, can you imagine how gutted those fools would be if they found out you were spending all your free time worrying about me?" He laughed deliriously. "How someone like me, a narrow-minded git who used to tease you— _torment_ you—every chance he got gets more attention than they could ever hope fo—" His head jerked violently to the side and his jaw clenched when his brain caught up to what just happened.

She slapped him.

With a renewed flame in her eyes, she didn't back away and continued to look up at him defiantly.

"I told you not to insult my friends." She stated, unwavering.

Her words only added fuel to the fire when his eyes flashed dangerously. "Admit it, Granger. You're upset because you tried to fix what you think is broken and you failed because you don't know a damn thing about me."

"I don't think that to be true. Everyone tried to tell me otherwise but I knew I was right about you." Hermione bit out despite her gut screaming at her. "You haven't changed at all."

"Really?" He grinned mercilessly. "If you feel so strongly, then why are you here?"

She sighed, irritated. "Because everyone else tried to convince otherwise; that I should be viewing you and your friends differently. I knew you were going to be the impossible one."

He laughed exasperatedly. " _I'm_ the impossible one? Clearly, you haven't taken a good look at yourself."

"I've accepted what's happened, Malfoy. I, for one, don't run from all of my problems."

"That so? Last I remember, you could barely stand on your own feet." He drawled, recalling when she showed up to class looking like death all of last week. 

"I will admit I had my own issues and I've already addressed with my friends because unlike you, I have nothing to hide," she affirmed.

At that, his gaze on her altered slightly. As if he were considering her more closely.

"You know what? Fine." She shook her head as she flicked her wand, unlocking the door with ease. "You've made it clear you have it all handled. I won't waste my time anymore." She turned to exit, halting in her step when he heard him speak softly.

"Why did you follow me that day?"

She stiffened momentarily before turning back to face him as he stared intently at the floor.

"I—" She paused when he looked up at her and began to walk towards her. He was pleased when she took a step back for every one he made.

Hermione swallowed as she backed into a wall, watching him advance and prepared to defend herself if she needed to, but somehow knowing that he had no intentions of harming her. For the moment.

"Why did you speak up for me at my trial?" he continued.

She wanted to answer but was unable to as this was something she had yet to address, herself. Was it because it was the right thing to do after he saved Harry? Or because he was a mere child thrown into the middle of a war like they were?

"Why do you keep trying to help me after everything I've done to you?"

In the midst of her panic, she neglected to notice when he'd reached her. With quick, sudden movements, he grabbed her by the arms and pushed her firmly against the wall.

She gasped lightly in shock and pain at his stern grip, her hands instinctively came up to press against his chest to keep their distance but there was no point. She struggled to conjure up any words with him being in such close proximity. The last time she was this close to a man...she tried to force those thoughts away in efforts to suppress the overwhelming perturbation. Much to her dismay and rising perplexity, she found it had almost nothing whatsoever to do with fear.

"Malfoy—" she shuddered as he leaned in closer, his lips suddenly too close to her ear.

"So it seems you _do_ have your secrets," he whispered, tone eerily calm. "I don't know what you're playing at, Granger. But I will have you know, I don't take kindly to those who try to force their way into my mind to uncover mine."

Her eyes widened and she shook her head frantically. "I-I didn't realize—I wasn't trying to—" Her voice cracked slightly as he applied more pressure, effectively cutting her off.

"I won't say it again." He said in a low voice. "But I highly suggest you keep your distance before you get caught up in something you _will_ regret."

His icy gaze faded as his eyes darted around furtively once he realized how close they had become in the duration of his aggression.

He released her, taking a few rapid steps back and the pressure on her chest receded almost instantly. She let him retreat from the room, hearing the click of his shoes followed by the loud slam of the door behind him just as her legs gave out from underneath. Her lithe body slumped to the ground as her eyes stayed glued to where he stood, riddled with disbelief.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Whew. I felt my heart race when I wrote this one. Hope you guys liked it! - E


	13. The Decoding

Ch.12: The Decoding

**October 5th 1998**

Sounds of faint scribbling bounced off the walls of Slughorn's office as he spent the past hour jotting down lecture notes. Much to his credit, he had been working diligently for the entire duration since arriving that morning, only to have it be diverted when a knock sounded from the other side of the door.

"Come in," he called out as he hastily wrote down the last few words while they were still fresh in his mind.

As the door creaked open, recognition dawned on his face when he glanced up and the intruder poked their head in.

"You wished to see me, Professor?"

"Ah yes, Miss Granger. Please, have a seat." He gestured to the chair across from his own. "I was hoping to have a quick chat with you before class."

Hermione stepped in, shutting the door behind her as he wandlessly whisked away his stack of parchment and replaced it with a tea tray. She lowered herself onto the seat in front of him, watching him pour a cup of tea for himself before glancing at her.

"Tea, my dear?" he offered while hovering the kettle over a second cup.

"Oh no, thank you." She politely declined, hoping her repugnance wasn't too obvious. "I'm really not a big tea drinker."

"Understood. I imagine there are quite a few who share your sentiments on what is fundamentally leaf water." He joked lightly as he set the kettle back down on the tray. She smiled gratefully and sat in place while he proceeded to add cubes of sugar to his cup of tea— _one at a time_.

With each passing minute, her eyes flickered warily between the cup and his look of concentration as he added and mixed in the cubes, watching them dissolve away with her patience. Eventually, the anticipation got to be too much.

"Professor, am I in trouble?" She blurted out uncomfortably once he got to what felt like the hundredth cube when realistically, it was the eighth cube.

"Good heavens, no." His expression scrunched up as if the mere thought were impossible to fathom. "Why on earth would you think such a thing?"

"Just curious." Her eyes followed the cup as he lifted it to his mouth to take a sip, his face twisted in disgust.

" _Oh my_ — _that's absolutely horrendous_ —" he muttered as he forced himself to swallow the bitter fluid. "You'll have to forgive me. I've always been somewhat particular with my tea." He assured her as he stirred in what she hoped was the last few cubes.

Four additions later, he tasted the hot liquid and appeared to deem the sweetness level to be satisfactory. He set the teaspoon down and motioned the whole tray away. As soon as it landed safely on the shelf behind him, he was finally able to tend to his guest. "Now, I called you here because I wanted to check in with you to see how you and your partner were getting on with the assignment."

"We're... _managing_. Why? Has he said something?" She inquired in a half-joking manner, the other half consisting of fear, knowing very well he could have used their lack of communication lately to his advantage.

Bridging off from Hermione's original note she left behind that one evening, they had set an unspoken routine by leaving brief messages for each other regarding what events had occurred with the brew every night. As a result of their perfected method of asocial interactions, they hadn't spoken to one another in weeks; at least not verbally. She would give anything for this to not be her interrogation to explain the reasoning behind their abnormal, evasive arrangement. Merlin, she really hoped she didn't have to explain why.

"As a matter of fact, he has." He replied, continuing to sip his tea, oblivious to her internal battle.

Instantly, her blood ran cold.

She should have known it was only a matter of time before he acted on his detestation for her after their encounter a few weeks ago. Maybe the slap was a bit much...well, here goes why—

"Professor, I can explain—" she cut off when Slughorn shook his head, setting his tea down.

"There's no need to explain anything, Miss Granger." She felt her heart sink even lower. "I've already seen your work and had your partner explain your progress to me."

Hermione wrinkled her nose at him, "Our progress?" she repeated with the realization she had momentarily forgotten his intentions to check on everyone's potions at random times this past week. She assumed he must have stumbled upon theirs on an evening when it was Malfoy's turn to keep watch over it.

"Indeed," he confirmed. "He had nothing but propitious things to say regarding your cooperation and work ethic."

Her brain stopped all functions.

He did what?

No way...he would never...

Not Malfoy.

"Miss Granger?"

"I'm sorry, did I hear you correctly? My partner said _nice_ things about me?" she asked, already feeling herself become delirious at the mere prospect.

"Well, ' _nice'_ is a tad of a strong term to use," he murmured tentatively. "It was positive nonetheless," he added hastily.

Hermione stared at her professor in amazement. Positive remarks, or anything of the sort coming from Malfoy were essentially the same thing. He was complimenting her. Maybe striking Malfoy with that patronus charm did some good after all.

"You seem to be in shock," Slughorn noted, observing her. "Should I be concerned?"

"Yes— _no_. I mean—" She stopped herself to carefully consider her words, treading slowly. "I just find it surprising since we had a bit of a rough start—"

"As expected," he remarked wryly.

"Right," she confirmed, chuckling lightly. "Though now that I think back on it, the potion was a great deal of trouble to commence."

"Every potion on that list is unmistakably advanced. Especially the one you chose to create." He reminded her tenaciously. "Frankly, it came as a shock to me that anyone elected to do it in the first place. The lack of knowledge and information on it usually deters most from attempting it."

Hermione knew she was no exception to this statement, recalling when she profusely rejected Malfoy's suggestion from the beginning.

"I imagine it wouldn't have been on your list were it not possible, Professor." she stated matter-of-factly to Slughorn, whose mouth quirked slightly with amusement. "You appear to have miscalculated the recklessness your brightest students would subject themselves to when asked to work together."

"So it would seem," he hummed, considering her words. "If I may, Miss Granger, as I feel it is only fair for you to know this. As you were already aware, Professor McGonagall asked me to reconsider the pairing selections in order to incorporate our newfound principles in this school. I told you I spent a great deal of time in the selection process. For it, I had to consider many factors including work ethic, skill level, compatibility and as a result, some people were more difficult to place while some were put together without question." He paused, as if preparing himself for how she would react to his next statement. Combining his slightly guilt-ridden expression, his twiddling thumbs and the context clues, she had a good guess as to what it was.

"You were already planning on pairing Malfoy and I together. Long before McGonagall asked you to change them," she realized.

His lack of a reaction said it all. She pursed her lips together, thinking of how to proceed with that information. What could she possibly say? He was essentially admitting to preemptively assigning her with someone who used to wish for her death as a child.

Was everyone conspiring against her this year?

He cleared his throat uncomfortably, "I know you two have your differences. But you must understand; as a teacher, when I see two gifted and motivated students like yourselves, I can't help but feel compelled to see what the outcome might be when they are placed in a position to work together; to see what great lengths two people from different backgrounds are capable of when given the proper motivation," he stated firmly.

Speechless, Hermione watched as Slughorn stood up from his seat and walked over to a bookshelf on the other side of the room with his hands clasped behind his back.

"Such a fascinating potion, Sana Vulnere." With his back turned towards her, it made him sound more distant than he was. "Many witches and wizards have tried their hand on it but as you may have noticed, research is limited and incessantly unavailable. It's said to be one of the most powerful healing potions known to exist, with the very act of creating it being a remarkable wonder in itself. So remarkable that historians have even coined it 'an act of selflessness'."

Hermione's forehead creased as he demonstrated how well-versed he was with the complexity of their potion. After Malfoy told her about Snape's previous attempt at the potion, it shouldn't have come as a shock to find he wasn't the only professor who had done immense research on it.

Yet, for some reason, it still did.

"When I spoke with Mister Malfoy a few days ago and he told me something very interesting," he turned back around to face her. "He said you believe the brew is somehow linked to lunar phases?"

"Yes sir, this is true," she answered easily.

"How did you come to that conclusion?" He implored, genuinely curious.

She blinked blankly at him, not expecting to be asked for her intellectual opinion. She wished she had more time to prepare for this; time to prepare a legitimate, well-thought out answer.

"When we researched the entries, we noticed the timing was oddly spaced out. I compared them with the dates from a lunar calendar and they lined up with certain phases; the potion was commenced on a new moon, consequential additions occur on a full," she replied studiously.

"Why do you think that is?" He prompted encouragingly.

"Well," she started, conjuring up any knowledge as to why that night be, "—naturally, moonlight provides energy. My best guess would be it acts as a source of power for the healing properties."

"And?" He pressed, like he was trying to guide her to an answer neither of them knew.

"That's...all I have at the moment." She clenched her hands together nervously, twiddling her thumbs as though she were awaiting feedback on a test. The feeling of dread diminished when Slughorn walked back to his desk in front of her and his eyes gleamed with pride.

"I knew I wouldn't be disappointed when I assigned you two together. You've done a spectacular job, Miss Granger. Both of you." He grinned at her. "Now, off you go. I'll see you in class momentarily."

* * *

Nearly an hour later, Hermione tapped her fingers on the desk absentmindedly as Slughorn proceeded with his lecture on the dangers of erumpent potions. She would have paid more attention if one; she wasn't already distracted by her conversation with him earlier and two; they hadn't already endured this lecture in their fifth year.

"—potions involving erumpent parts in their creation are notorious for their reactivity. In more recent years, they used to be used as a sort of weapon, designed to combust upon impact with another substance. If it's too reactive and you do not have a buffering potion on standby, a strong shielding charm should suffice. But you best make sure it's good." He added jokingly. "Timing is also key, as a buffer will only delay the inevitable reaction. For instance—"

When he turned around to draw out a diagram on the board, an object from her left flew and landed on her desk; a paper crane.

Furrowing her brow, she opened the folded sheet of parchment and read the short, brief message:

Meet me in the tower at 8 tonight.

Don't. Be. Late.

The message wasn't signed but if witnessing Harry receiving his fair share of these paper cranes didn't give away who the sender was, the penmanship she had grown to know over the past few weeks did. Her eyes glanced over the note a second time before turning her head to where _he_ sat.

Malfoy split his attention between Slughorn's diagram on the board and his notebook where he recorded his own version of notes, not sparing a second to look in her direction.

She sighed heavily, facing forward and sinking in her seat slightly to face the reality of her situation. They had managed to get away with their passive aggressive methods for the past few weeks but now, those methods had to come to an end.

How were they supposed to cooperate in the same room — _alone_ — with what had occurred after their duel?

She recalled how she stayed in the same spot for a solid half hour in a daze before she sheepishly made her way back to her dormitory, evading all of the compliments and questions thrown her way by her dorm-mates. By the time she made it through the common room to her own bed, Ginny had tried every method she knew to obtain any information from her. Eventually, Hermione dutifully admitted Malfoy wasn't injured and promptly told her to fuck off before heading off to the Slytherin dormitories in the dungeon.

Ginny said she would have believed it if she hadn't been gone for over an hour and been visibly shaken when she returned.

Hermione did not comment any further, simply turning over in her bed and forced herself to sleep, ceasing all her thoughts on what had transpired that evening. It wasn't like she enjoyed keeping things from her friends. Sometimes it was much easier to pretend nothing happened.

Unfortunately, it had happened. And as much as it relieved her to know he was just as affected by their confrontation as her, it ended up plaguing her thoughts more. Whatever happened proved what she had seen two years ago was quite real and was still there after all this time. She saw it when she stood in the same room as him, even more so when he held her to the wall with mere inches between them. This time, she knew for certain; his icy exterior was only a front. A sturdy, unchanging facade he used to hide away his suffering and pain.

And she had broken it.

She was lucky to get away with the few weeks of peace but now she had to come to terms with the fact that he was clearly peeved with her. The anticipation of having to deal with him tonight was not helping her concentrate in the slightest.

"— _mione_? _Hermione, are you paying any attention? Class is over._ "

She jerked her head up. "Sorry, what?" She could barely make out the words Ginny was saying as she glanced around to see her classmates slowly packing their books and leaving.

"Are you alright?" Ginny asked as she packed away her last book.

"I'm fine. "She refrained from glancing over to his empty seat. "Just a lot on my mind, is all."

"Well come on. We need to get to our next class."

They were the last to exit the classroom by the time Hermione finished packing away her items. Thankfully, they didn't have far to go with their next class being at the other end of the hallway. The door was shut and the students were gathered around the room, chattering as they waited for Greeves to grant them entry. In the meantime, Ginny spoke up about their upcoming exams and Hermione was grateful for the temporary distraction.

"—all I'm saying is Greeves should consider another extra credit opportunity with how the next round exams are going to go."

Hermione opened her mouth to retort a sarcastic remark, stopping her tracks when she saw Malfoy talking to Astoria a short distance away. Well, in fairness, it seemed she was doing most of the talking. With him turned towards her, Hermione could barely make out the hint of a smile on his face. A sight she was still not accustomed to seeing.

Her breath caught in her throat when his eyes shifted up past Astoria and locked onto hers. His remnants of a smile dissipated and his eyes hardened.

Instantly, she forced her eyes away to break the eye contact and gave Ginny her undivided attention, brushing off the fact that she could still feel his steely gaze on her. "I don't think his exams are _that_ difficult," she countered.

"You're one to talk." Elena suddenly appeared, putting herself between them. "You're probably the only who's going to do well in his class."

"That can't be true." Hermione opposed, suddenly feeling the pressure on her lessen. "What about you? I've noticed you're more self-assured in your performance. Greeves seemed to have taken a liking to you."

"He's a bit old for my tastes, Hermione," she told her, cheekily.

Ginny let out a snort of a laugh. "Don't let him hear you—" she gestured to the newly opened door. "Then again, what do you have to worry about? If he threatens to give you detention, you could easily kick his arse again. Maybe scare him into giving us all passing grades?" she added in a not-so-joking-manner.

"Let's see how his next exam goes first and I'll see what I can do." Elena laughed as they migrated towards the classroom together.

Hermione smiled at her newfound confidence, recalling the shock and delight she displayed that day before the sensation of a firm grip and his condescending tones inevitably took priority again.

* * *

"How long are you going to pretend like nothing's wrong with you?" Ginny asked unceremoniously while flipping a page in her book.

"Nothing's wrong with me." Hermione snapped, taking a pause in answering a homework problem.

Ginny huffed a sarcastic laugh, closing her textbook shut and mentally praising Luna for casting a silencing spell the minute they set up in the library. "We're seriously doing this again? I thought you were over what happened with Ron."

"Ginny—" Hermione warned.

"Unless this isn't about him at all," she interrupted suddenly, eyes wide.

"Is this really the time—"

"This is about something else..." Ginny paused, then gasped. "Or _someone_ else."

"What about Malfoy? She's been like this since the day of their duel." Elena offered curiously, immediately ducking her head back down to copy notes at Hermione's glare. She never wished she could hex her more than in that moment.

"Malfoy." Ginny repeated slowly, pointing her quill at her for emphasis. "That has to be it—"

"You know," Hermione's pitch rose in her attempt to change the topic, "I really think should get back to studying with Greeves' test coming up—"

"Now that I think of it, _both_ of you have been acting very odd lately. Even Blaise said something about it the other day. Fucking _Blaise_ _Zabini_ noticed, Hermione." She highlighted in a pleading tone.

"Don't be so dramatic, Ginny. Us behaving this way is nothing new," she tried to play off. "This isn't abnormal—"

"You walk in the other direction when you see him walking down the hallway," Luna spoke up for the first time that afternoon, still neck deep in her book and not looking up. "You didn't even do that when he used to tease you."

"You won't even look at him now." Ginny noted.

"I hardly looked at him before," Hermione shot back.

"Yes but that was before I pointed out the fact that he's attractive." Ginny added.

"That's...that's completely irrelevant," she stammered, thrown off by the direction this conversation was now taking. "How he looks has nothing to do with him as a person—" she protested weakly.

"Meh...debatable." Elena contributed briskly.

Hermione scoffed at her while Ginny stifled a laugh, amused at her discomfort, "I'll let you continue with your denial for the time being. But I've seen what you two are like on a normal day and even when you're cross with each other — which is the majority of the time — it's never been this weird."

She grimaced and pursed her lips together, unsure of how to correct her.

"Come on, Hermione. You never even told us what happened after Greeve's duel. It's been two weeks. Obviously something happened or you wouldn't be treating each other like the plague. You were starting to get along for a while. Now you're acting as if he—" Ginny leaned forward, her voice low and dangerous. "Did he hurt you?"

"No!" She nearly shouted. "I mean...he didn't _hurt_ me, exactly." Hermione insisted but Ginny wasn't budging. Her expression was murderous.

"Spill."

Hermione sank in her chair now that they had captured both Luna and Elena's attention from their assignments.

"He cornered me in a classroom," she answered sheepishly.

"He did what?" Ginny hissed. Elena's eyes widened and Luna's expression remained unchanged.

"But to be fair, I did pursue him first," Hermione interrupted quickly before Ginny could storm off abruptly in search of him, likely to induce some sort of physical harm. "I ran after him, remember? I-I'd never cast a patronus charm on a person before and I wanted to make sure he was okay."

"Then what?" Elena asked, intrigued.

"He kept telling me to leave him alone but I followed him anyway. Then I put myself in front of him to stop him and he ended up throwing me into a classroom where we yelled at each other. Eventually, he told me to leave him alone, then he left."

Ginny narrowed her eyes at her. "There's something else."

Hermione bit her lip, "He may have— _erm_ —pinned me against the wall." She finished lamely as the three of them stared at her in amazement.

"Christ, Hermione," Elena breathed.

"I know, I know. It was foolish of me to chase after him like that alone—" She started frantically, recalling the last time she got berated by Harry for essentially doing the same thing their sixth year.

"No, I-I mean—yeah. Totally." Elena stuttered, slightly flustered.

Hermione furrowed her eyebrows at her and completely missed the knowing smile Luna hid behind her book.

"And here I was worried he cursed you or something." Ginny sighed in relief as she settled back into her seat, having stood over the table at some point in the escalating interrogation.

Hermione crossed her arms, "So because he didn't curse me, it's no longer a concern," she tested.

"Not that it isn't but it's different with you. It seems like no matter what progress you make, you're taking two steps backwards." Ginny noted, continuing to ponder critically.

Hermione let out a frustrating groan. "Because you're talking about Malfoy and I! I've already told you, he's made it clear how he feels. Quite frankly, I can't say I disagree. It's always been this way yet for some reason, everyone this year has these false pretenses that Malfoy and I can be on good terms. First McGonagall, then Slughorn and now _you_?" She finished with a tone of disbelief and incredulity.

Yep, everyone had officially lost it.

"I can't speak for McGonagall or Slughorn," Ginny paused, making sure she answered in a way that wouldn't set Hermione off, "But if I'm honest, then yes, with the war behind us and predispositions in the past, I thought the two of you would get along given how... _similar_ you are." She explained slowly.

"His predispositions never stoppe—wait. How on earth are we _similar_?" She asked in a disbelieving tone, with the last word leaving a bitter taste in her mouth.

"You're both very defensive," Luna offered, still mostly hidden behind her book.

"No we're not." Hermione's face almost reddened at how quickly she retorted.

"You're intelligent. Driven. Sometimes too much for your own good if you ask me," Ginny added, looking at her pointedly.

That...might be true.

"And have quite the temper." Luna stated easily.

Even though their statements were accurate, it didn't change the fact that their views didn't align. Which, in itself, set the precedent for the entire foundation of their conflict. Superficially, they didn't have anything in common and Hermione was not willing to go any deeper. And she had heard enough.

"None of those suggest we were ever meant to get along. We're two opposite ends of the spectrum and this isn't like 'Pride and Prejudice'—"

Ginny scrunched her face, "Like what—?"

"It's not important. The fact is, this isn't some fantasy world where everyone has a 'happily ever after'."

"A what." Ginny repeated.

"I said it's not important, Ginny," Hermione said exhaustively, diverting her attention to Luna who had set her book down and was looking at her curiously. "What is it, Luna?"

"I've noticed he's been in a foul mood lately—" she started.

_He's always in a foul mood,_ Hermione thought to herself.

"—which begs the question; what did _you_ say to him?" Luna finished casually.

She let out an irritated sigh and dropped her head in her hands, knowing Luna raised a good point as she was likely the one responsible for his recent brooding. "He started speaking ill of Harry and Ron and I warned him to stop. Multiple times—"

Ginny gasped, horrified, clearly catching on to the gist of what she had done. "Hermione, no—you didn't."

"He knew better than to talk about them that way. We had an agreement and he broke it." She defended, unwavering. "Besides, he didn't even flinch. He claims he's different but if anything, he's only proving that I was right about him. He's the same spoiled, atrocious knob we grew up to detest and nothing will ever change that."

"But he _has_ changed, Hermione." Ginny nearly pleaded. "Remember those death threats he used to throw at you?"

"Yes—"

"And all the times he poked fun of your appearance? And tried to get you and your friends expelled?"

"Yes Ginny, I was present for all of this—"

"I mean, the guy used to completely disregard your entire existe—"

"Are you going to get the point anytime soon?" Hermione interrupted, impatient.

"The point is he's working with you—"

"Against his will—"

"And he's _communicating_ with you. He helped you our first day of class before you were even partners. Look—" Ginny paused her, and then hastily held up a hand, catching the beginnings of protest on Hermione's face. "Believe me, I know he can be difficult to deal with but that's just who he is as a person. It starts to... _grow_ on you after a certain point..." She forced herself not to grimace when Hermione eyed her dubiously. Ginny decided then to take another route. "You said he made an agreement with you. About your friends?"

"Which he broke—"

"I know, I know. Just hear me out for a moment." Ginny could tell she was getting irritated but she hoped she would stop and reconsider her thought process. "He agreed to stop doing something you were uncomfortable with. And to my understanding, he stuck to it until you decided to go with your stupidly brave intuition and confronted him when he only recently had his pride handed to him." She paused, letting the words sink in Hermione's mind. "I realize it's different for you because you're in it, but I can guarantee he wouldn't have been doing any favors for you two years ago."

Hermione sat silently, chewing her lip as resounding clarity slowly sunk in. She had been so caught up in the situation at hand that she couldn't see what they saw from the outside. It was true, he was still very much the same pompous, arrogant person they knew him to be but he was treating her differently. He was treating her like he treated everyone else. It was a considerable improvement from outright downplaying her capabilities as a witch like he did before.

"That's not true," Luna offered nonchalantly. "There was that time they were brought to his home by snatchers—" Hermione paled, hoping she didn't dispel everything that transpired when they were brought in by the stragglers. It was a day she commonly wished to eradicate from her memories. Details she longed to erase after had been permanently engraved into her mind:

Her agony.

Ron's pleas.

The determined look in his eyes.

Then Ginny decided to lower her voice, like they weren't already under the effects of a silencing charm. Harry had told her the gruesome details of this day over the summer and she, like the three of them, took it very seriously.

"You remember what he did for you, then. What he risked for the three of you?" She pressed, desperately trying to gauge the blank expression Hermione displayed. "We're on the other side of a war, living to tell the tale. I'm not saying that you should be best friends with him. But after practicing Quidditch with him and talking to Blaise a bit about their past, it may be worth it to talk to him. And I mean, _really_ talk to him."

She huffed her opposition, crossing her arms stubbornly over her chest.

"He's made it very clear he doesn't want my help—" she explained, knowing her chances of success were practically nonexistent as all of her previous attempts ended in disaster.

"No, no. I never said 'help'. I said 'talk' to him," Ginny corrected. "This is Malfoy we're talking about. He may be different but he's not going to accept help from anyone, no matter how 'pure' your blood is. Don't get me wrong, that man has issues. _Many_ issues. But maybe you should take it slow and try what you did with Blaise and Theo—?"

"It's not that simple, Ginny," she protested. "They came to me. Talking to them was _easy_. With Malfoy...it's not the same—"

"She's right." Luna offered, before glancing up from her book to address Hermione directly. "You're right. It's not the same. There's more history between you two and he was far more involved with Voldemort's affairs than any of his friends were. Clearly, he's still not over the past...and neither are you."

"Why me?" She pouted in a way that strongly resembled Neville when he endured constant misfortunes throughout their years at school.

"Because you're Hermione Granger; our war heroine who is notorious for doing the right thing. Righting the wrongs of an ex-death eater? Sounds like the perfect job for you." Ginny enthused, grinning widely at her evident dismay.

"He's even more difficult to figure out than our bloody potion." She grumbled.

"All the more reason for you to try and crack the enigma that is 'Draco Malfoy'. You've always loved a challenge, after all." Ginny joked, winking at her.

People's awareness of her character and using it against her seemed to be a recurrent theme as of late and none of it was fair.

Fair.

_Life's not fair. And whoever said so is rolling around is laughing in his grave like a twat._

The echoes of his haughty voice lingered in her mind as she ground her lips together, trying to conjure up different methods of approaching him later until Luna captured her attention once more.

"Did you know at one point, the moon was used to predict future events and resolve conflicts between magical creatures? Even wizards?"

"That's all a part of Divination, Luna," Hermione remarked, half-distracted. "It's all guesswork."

"Not all of it," Luna supplied. "Henry has seen it himself."

"Henry...your moon frog friend?" Hermione asked slowly.

"Yes." She affirmed, "He's told me several stories from experience. I've even been reading this novel on the history of the moon and the symbolism of its cycles. Would you like to hear an excerpt? It may inspire you."

Hermione nodded for her to continue, curiosity peaked and mentally alert.

'Moonlight has always been known to have magical properties as it dawns us with its inspirational glow, even having the ability to revert some of us into our true forms. The amount that is reflected upon us has a direct correlation on our physical being, emotions and thought process. An eve of a new moon, with no visible moonlight, brings us an opportunity to start new things on a clean slate. It is also a time people tend to use to refresh dreams and desires. Compare this to the full moon which represents completion and power as it basks us with mighty glow, allowing us to celebrate growth and take note of the progress you have made and how far you've come—"

Hermione stopped listening at this point, suddenly being brought back to her conversation with Slughorn earlier that morning when he inquired her about their hypotheses.

Everything Luna recited from that text had answered all of his questions and addressed her own personal struggles she'd been harbouring this whole time. While Theo and Blaise were quick to apologize for any misgivings they caused her, Malfoy had been the main source of her misery from the very beginning. And now with the major conflict threatening their very lives and her friends who acted as her safety nets out of the way, there was nothing left standing between them and the reality they chose to ignore.

From the day she ran after him to everything that took place following their return this year, nothing about it was coincidental. No matter what she told herself or tried to distract herself with, the tugging sensation she felt the day she confronted him that day in the bathroom never left her. All this time, she had tried to play along with his aloof approach to the situation but there was no avoiding it anymore.

When Luna eventually stopped reading, her eyes lifted to meet hers and shifted in recognition.

For the first time since her confrontation with Malfoy, a rush of adrenaline flooded her veins. She laid a hand over the pocket of her robes, feeling his folded note burning through the material. Impossible to think at the start of the year, she doubted herself and her decision to chase for happiness beyond new love with her long-time childhood friend. Come to find herself a month later struggling to find a way to talk to the person who constantly made her life a living hell without confrontation.

How uncanny was that?

Gasping in horror at the vibrating of the watch on her wrist she had set to warn her when time came close, she decided she would ponder on her method of approach during the walk over, for she had run out of time. Out of nowhere, Hermione began to gather her belongings, being particularly careful with her stray sheets of parchment. Ginny, who had finally begun to address her homework, looked up at her in bewilderment.

"What are you doing?"

"Leaving." Hermione answered simply, continuing to collect her items from the table.

"But—what about our study session? I haven't even started on my herbology assignment!" Ginny complained.

"It's your own fault for spending the entire time interrogating me." Hermione deadpanned, her expression taking on a sympathetic one. "I can help you with it tomorrow but I really do have to go."

Without another word, Hermione threw the last of her items in her bag and slung it over her shoulder as she marched away from the table, breaking their silencing charm. She brushed past Blaise and Theo who were perusing a nearby shelf. She flashed them a quick smile before determination bestowed her features as she made her way out of the library.

They watched her leave with identical bemused expressions.

"What's with her?" Theo asked aloud to the current occupants of the table she left.

Luna shrugged, a familiar, seemingly innocent smile graced her features.

"Must be a full moon..."

* * *

Hermione stood on the other side of the door and glanced down at her watch.

7:58 PM

She closed her eyes and took a deep breath to calm herself before grasping the doorknob blindly and pushing forward. The door gave way at her command and she stepped in, taking in the faint smell of mint that had overtaken the room. Her eyes landed on his figure, easily distinguished by his tall, slim build and distinctly large head of blond hair.

His back was turned to her with his robe removed. She could see from where she stood he rolled up the sleeves to his oxford slightly as he fiddled away at their workstation.

She had mentally prepared herself for the worst to overwhelm her emotions; anger, repulse, disdain, anything of the sort would have sufficed. What she wasn't expecting was being bombarded with thoughts of how those arms held her up so easily last time they were together. How they held her in place while he pressed himself closer, rendering her completely at his mercy. A tingling sensation crept its way down her spine, still feeling the ghost of his touch despite the interaction having occurred weeks ago—

"Are you going to stand there all night?" His voice clipped, annoyed, interrupting her thoughts.

Willing for the heat on her face to subside, she flung the door shut behind her and put in as much courage to her stride as she could manage as she made her way to their workstation.

She set her items down on the counter while he continued to sift through the small pile of dragon scales, picking out sturdiest and intact ones to polish off.

As she settled in and shrugged off her own robes, she heard him clear his throat uncomfortably, "The first part of tonight's addition is stardust and dragon scales, followed by the honeysuckle extract. We need to make sure they're spaced far enough apart for maximum absorption." He supplied.

Without protest, she reached for the vial of star fragments and prepared the mortar and pestle for grinding. As she ground the fragments into dust, she couldn't help but notice an odd tension that hadn't been there before. But that didn't deter her from maintaining her compliance, for she had decided along the way here she would let him speak first and guide them through the process tonight.

She figured there was no better way to keep him in good spirits than by not objecting to everything he said. Not to mention if they were to view each other as equals, they needed to start treating each other as such. Hermione took a moment to risk a glance of him from this angle.

His face was schooled. Calm and empty. Nothing in. Nothing out.

His posture was stiff. Tense.

She exhaled, slightly dejected. It would seem he planned on being careful tonight, meaning trying to talk to him tonight was not going to be an easy feat.

A half hour had passed and she had completely accumulated the necessary amount of star dust and he was nearly finished polishing the scales. Dropping the mortar and pestle on the workbench, she brushed off her hands and turned to the cauldron. Her brow furrowed when she peered in to see it was no longer the silver hue, but gleamed a slight blue-green colour.

"It's been like that all evening. I'm sure it's nothing." Malfoy voiced evenly, eyeing her tentatively from where he stood.

She hummed, forcing her mouth closed to keep from spatting off countless random facts about colours having over a dozen different meanings in potions. Instead, she busied herself with stirring the pot in preparation for the additions, quickly reminding herself of the task at hand. He must have witnessed the brief display of conflict on her face because he started to speak.

"It's pointless to worry about. And probably impossible to trace back—"

Difficult. Not impossible.

"Especially when we have blue molies which hate cold weather and are notorious for leaking their colour," he continued in a flippant tone.

That's...completely inaccurate.

"Then there's the also chance we mucked something up—"

Feigning exasperation, she mentally pleaded for him to stop talking before she did something foolish. Like hiting him. _Again_.

"Or perhaps it's the mint extract reacting with something and causing the colour change—"

Wrong. Wrong. _Wrong_.

Her left eye began to twitch and she cleared her throat as she tossed in a measured quantity of dust, stirring away to distract from the attentive eyes she could feel on her.

"Wouldn't you agree, Granger?" She completely missed the derision in his tone due to the fumes currently escaping her ears.

"I don't, actually." She tried to quip in a nonchalant fashion.

"Oh? And why is that?"

That was the only permission she needed. She had been asked directly for her opinion and there was no turning back.

"For one," she began, adopting her typical lecturing tone, "—you're thinking of red molies. Blue molies actually flourish in the cold. Their colours only leak when temperatures are extreme, far beyond the range we've used and they dissipate in mere minutes. Mint extract is a nonreactive substance as it only affects a potion's smell," she sighed in relief as the tension left her. "Surely a student taking solely N.E.W.T.-level classes would know th—" she looked up at him and froze, taking in the amused glint in his eyes and a corner of his mouth twitching upwards.

"Of course you knew that already." She perceived quickly, rolling her eyes and turning her focus back to the simmering potion in front of her.

"And?" He suggested, the beginnings of a cunning smirk displayed across his features. "You're forgetting something."

She huffed lightly at his persistence, "Yes, there is a small chance we did something incorrectly—"

" _We?_ " he echoed, challenging her.

"Yes, _we._ " She affirmed. " _We_ , as in 'you and I.' As in, the two of us who are supposed to be working on this project together as partners. Slughorn seems to think we work well together and we wouldn't want to disappoint him by getting into another nasty duel, now would we?" She added scornfully.

He clenched his jaw tightly, "You can stop playing teacher's pet, Granger. I only spoke up for you so you wouldn't keep up the act as I find it unequivocally repulsive," he sneered and her mouth tightened.

"What's that supposed to mean?" She shot back, subconsciously stepping back so he could step up to the potion and take her spot.

"Oh, I dunno," Malfoy bristled as he lowered the dragon scales into the cauldron with a ladle. "Other than the fact that this is the first time we've spoken to each other in weeks. You're really going to pretend like everything is fine?"

"So you don't like when I talk and you get upset when I don't. There's just no satisfying you, is there?" She said incredulously.

"Well, if you'd really like to know—" he taunted darkly.

"Stop. Just stop." She grimaced. "You're behaving like a rotten cad."

"I have every reason to—" He turned on her, glaring at her while pointing with the ladle in his firm grip. "Because you went from downright impossible to work with to being somewhat manageable. And now you're completely ignoring me on an evening we actually need to communicate."

"I was giving you a chance to lead tonight," she clarified. "I was trying to do you a favor."

"And you didn't think to tell me that from the beginning?!" He shouted back, irritated.

"Don't act virtuous with me, Malfoy," she returned briskly. "It's not like you would have batted an eye at anything I said."

He slammed the ladle on the counter before turning to her. "As I've already fucking told you, I'm not the s—" he cut off when she gasped in horror and jerked on the sleeve of his oxford, pulling him back.

"The potion!" She shouted in a panic, eyes fixed on the worktable.

His eyes landed on what she saw, cursing as their potion had become a fiery red, hissing and bubbling as a result of their anger. They backed away fearfully from the corrosive solution to their own respective corners of the room, wands extracted and at the ready to cast a shield if necessary.

They stayed rooted, anxiously waiting for the violent bubbling to subside but after a few minutes, it had yet to dissolve. Hermione willed for her heart rate to slow down, taking slow, deep breaths to relax. When she glanced at the potion again, it had eased up slightly but was still a bright red and readily unstable. Then she looked over to Malfoy who appeared calm on the surface, she could tell he was still seething internally.

"Malfoy, you need to calm down." She communicated to him in an urgent whisper.

"Don't tell me what to fucking do, Granger." He spat distastefully.

"The potion is empathetic, remember? We have to remain neutral," she reminded him delicately.

Like clockwork, he shut his eyes as he sucked in a deep breath, uncannily similar to when she confronted him two years ago. In a matter of seconds, his eyes opened again and just as she expected, they were hollow. Hermione could hear the rumbling of the potion slowly subside but her attention remained fixed on him, curiosity ablaze.

"Perhaps you should leave." He admitted quietly.

"No, I'm not leaving you," she said firmly, shaking her head stubbornly.

"We need to get this done. I honestly don't give a damn if you don't trust me—" he retorted.

"This has nothing to do with trust, Malfoy," she swiftly corrected. "This is a two person job. No matter how much we try to deny it, we need each other and I will not abandon you."

He jerked his head away, refusing to make eye contact as a whirlwind of conflict took over. Like he didn't know how to process that information.

"We've proven we can manage to be in the same room without killing each other. What's so different now?" She offered.

"You do realize what you're asking. And whom you're asking." He deadpanned, narrowing his eyes at her.

"I do," she conceded lightly. "Just because that was the way things were before doesn't mean it has to be that way now. Clearly our current methods aren't getting us anywhere and we're only doing more harm." She stated earnestly, trying to meet his evading gaze. When their eyes eventually met, he knew she wasn't talking about the potion anymore. "We need to learn how to trust one another."

"Really?" He scoffed. "I see you tense up with apprehension every time you look at me." He supplied flatly.

_The full moon which represents completion and power...allowing us to celebrate growth and take note of the progress you have made and how far you've come..._

_Let me be clear about something...we didn't win...we survived._

It was time. She had to make a choice.

Don't overthink it.

Just be honest with him.

"I saw you that day," she began. "In the bathroom sixth year."

He raised a curved brow. "Thanks for clarifying. Wasn't sure if it was a figment of my imagination or not." He drawled slowly as if she were mentally incapacitated.

"No, I mean I saw _you_." She emphasized. "I'm still not exactly sure how it happened but...I could feel your pain somehow. I thought I was imagining things but then I felt it again during our duel."

His eyes darkened and she knew she needed to explain herself quickly before he became defensive and shut her out completely.

She held out her wand to him.

He eyed it warily. "What's this?"

"It's a wand." She quipped. "Haven't you seen one before?"

"Oh shove off, you—" he hissed.

"I'm letting you have it." She blurted aloud. "So I don't fight back if you choose to obliviate me."

He gaped at her, grasping for words. "I—I don't—"

"It was wrong of me to pry into your mind like that, when you were at your most vulnerable. It was an invasion of privacy and for that, I'm terribly sorry. I want to make things right," she gestured to the wand in her hand.

She swallowed in anticipation as her words sank in. She was only supposed to talk to him. But she was Hermione Granger; of course she had to go the extra mile. At this point, she could only hope that he didn't take too many memories from her when he inevitably accepted her proposal—

"I'm not going to obliviate you, Granger." He stated eventually.

Her extended arm faltered slightly. "Wh—"

"Put your damn wand away and come help me with the potion. We've wasted enough time as is." He said easily, pocketing his wand and striding back to their potion.

She stayed in place for a moment as the clinking of vials took her back to the present. Shaking out of her stupor, she followed suit, putting her wand away and taking her place beside him at their table. Much to her relief, the potion had returned to its clear, silver colour.

They worked in a comfortable silence for the next hour, taking turns stirring and prepping the next ingredient to be added.

"It hasn't always been like this." He admitted begrudgingly as he stirred.

"What do you mean?" Hermione grunted, continuing to crush the honeysuckle with the mortar and pestle.

"Having a lunatic in your home carries its risks if you can't control your thoughts around him."

"You're an occlumens," she analyzed. "You must be quite skilled to have been able to deceive him."

"Occlumency has proven to be a worthy asset to me." He chuckled darkly as he stared at the simmering liquid. "Though I suppose it's all falling through the cracks now."

"How come?" She saw him purse his lip, like he was keeping himself from saying anything further. "I'm not asking us to be friends by any means but you can talk to me about it." She offered lightly.

"Why the hell should I do that?" he asked defensively.

She paused in her motions momentarily.

He had a point. Why should he confide in her as two individuals who had visibly nothing in common; save for their intellect. Their fears. Their hopes. Their forced roles in parts they didn't want to portray.

Their shared trauma.

"Because," she started confidently even as she was trembling on the inside, "—you're not the only one who is running away from something."

She expected him to laugh menacingly. To react with something along the lines of, 'You? The precious, beloved Golden Girl who can do no wrong? Protected and adored by everyone she passes?'

It was what anyone else would have done. Yet he stayed silent. So she continued.

"You were right about me. I'm not over what happened. Sometimes I wish I could forget I was always on the other end of his wand. All this time, I've been kidding myself that things should just go back to normal. Clearly I was wrong." She surprised herself at how the words fell through her lips so easily. A few moments passed and she turned her head to look at him.

"Are you expecting sympathy from me?" He raised a brow at her as he stirred, calculating.

"No." She admitted honestly. "I'm just... _talking_."

"Do you have any idea how difficult it is to talk to you?" He admitted after a brief pause. "Even disregarding our history, our personalities don't exactly mesh well. Anything we say usually ends up with us at each other's throats."

"Maybe so...but I didn't come here to walk on eggshells around you, Malfoy." She paused, choosing her next words carefully. "I'm here because for once, I'd like to attend class and learn like any other student. I don't want to feel like the war cheated me out of my chance to live my life. I don't want the aftereffects of it to define my future. I wanted a chance to make a name for myself—a fresh start. I wanted...something _normal_." She eyed him cautiously, tense with doubt when he tightened his lips and kept his head forward.

Moments passed and she decided it best to continue with her task, in efforts to fill the silence with some form of noise until he spoke up again.

"Congratulations, Granger. I think you've found something we have in common." Shocked, she jerked her head to face him. This time, he was staring back. A corner of his mouth tucked up briefly when her eyes flickered with hope.

It wasn't a confession. Or an apology. But it was something.

It was a start.

She sighed in relief. "So we're in agreement, then. From this day forth, we move on and act like two classmates who can stand to be in the same room."

He paused, considering it. "I'll do you one better, Granger. Instead of acting, I may even try to tolerate you."

She blinked at him in disbelief. "Are—are you making a joke?"

"Don't be naive, Granger," he drawled. "It's simple conversation," he said dismissively.

"Except the Malfoy I know would never stoop so low as to make simple conversation." she said, feigning appall. "He would never do something so... _pedestrian_."

The corners of his mouth quirked up; a near indication of satisfaction.

"Your usual misconceptions continue to misguide you, I see."

"Hardly." She huffed a laugh. "Next you're going to tell me you never smile."

He was dead silent. "Malfoys don't smile."

"Unfortunately for you, I know that's not true." She smirked knowingly, recalling the time she saw him with his mother. And earlier this morning with Astoria. With the latter memory, her smirk faded slightly.

"You'd best not be going around telling people I smile." He warned dangerously. "Do you have any idea what that would do to my image?"

"Ahh yes. Wouldn't want to ruin that, would we?" She remarked sarcastically, tilting the mortar over the cauldron to pour the extract in.

He shrugged simply while popping open another vial. "I blame the general population of witches."

She shook her head disbelievingly, muttering _boys_ under her breath.

"As much as it pains me to say, I suppose now is as good a time as any to apologize for my behavior after the duel." He sniffed.

Why didn't she sacrifice her memory to him as a peace offering weeks ago?

"It wasn't all you." She eventually admitted, recovering from the shock of his candor. "I provoked you."

"You didn't know what you were doing. I should've sensed the inexperience a mile away."

"Oh _please_ , save the dramatics—"

"I'm serious." He said quietly. "I shouldn't have overreacted."

She tilted her head at him. "Did it hurt?"

"What?" He blinked. "The patronus?"

"Apologizing." Her eyes were wide and shone with genuine curiosity, causing a laugh to suddenly erupt from Malfoy.

"Who would have thought the stuck-up Gryffindor princess actually has a sense of humour?"

She felt her ears turn hot and as an attempt to hide her smile, she abruptly turned to fetch two vials from the shelf behind them. It also kept her from doing anything foolish, like acknowledging the jolt of electricity running through her veins.

When she returned, she dropped them on the worktable and placed her hands on her hips authoritatively.

"Moth wings and golden carrots. And I do believe it's my turn to stir..."

* * *

As Hermione took over monitoring the cauldron and adjusted the temperature accordingly, she attempted to conjure up any knowledge of his interests while he prepped the last two ingredients.

"Are you excited for the first game?" she tried, knowing the first match of the season was coming up in a few weeks.

He side eyed her as he chopped the carrot with practiced ease. "Thought you weren't a quidditch fan."

"I'm not." She said flatly.

He arched a groomed brow at her, "Yes, I am very much looking forward to it."

She nodded slowly, wishing she had something to follow up with.

"Still passionate about elf rights with that little program of yours?" He paused, taking on a thoughtful expression. "S.P.E.W., or something?"

"Actually, it's S—" she trailed off. How did he—?

He raised a brow at her when she didn't finish her response. "Yes that's—that's the right—I mean," she stammered, bewildered. "Yes. Fighting for the rights of all magical creatures has always been one of my greatest aspirations."

"Understood," he replied, indiscreetly pleased with the fact that he was able to render her speechless.

Another half hour had passed after the final few ingredients were added and just like that, their first addition was complete.

They packed their items in silence, mentally and physically drained after a long, productive day.

"Granger, that night—" She paused midway of packing a textbook and glanced at him quizzically. "That night in the library—" he clarified.

She frowned in recognition. She remembered that night every well; the night he ever-so-kindly reminded her they didn't win and merely survived. The night he made implicitly clear that nothing had changed despite everything she did for him. He would choose now to bring up this conversation, once their potion was mostly stable.

"I get it, Malfoy. You don't need to remind me." She saw him furrow his brow. "I'm well aware of your sentiments regarding me and my blood status."

"No, you don't understand." He tried to correct but she wasn't having any of it. Her brain was on overdrive again. And when it was on overdrive, there was no stopping it.

"We can finish this assignment and you won't have to worry about dealing with me—" She continued her packing in a hurry, in efforts to prevent their potion from acting up again.

"Granger."

"We can act like none of this transpired between us—"

"Granger, if you would just listen—"

"—and you can go on living your life without anyone knowing of your association with me—"

" _Granger_." He grabbed her by the shoulders, forcing her to look at him. Her breath was forced from her lungs at his proximity.

"You misunderstand."

"What is there to misunderstand?" She demanded, glowering at him. "You said—"

"I know." He interrupted sharply. "I said that we didn't have to pretend like anything's changed. Only I wasn't saying it for me."

What?

What did that even mean? Unless he meant—

"Why would I be pretending?" Hermione said softly, recalling his apparent regret when those words left his mouth, knowing exactly how she would interpret them.

Gathering glimpses of their previous interactions, she slowly pieced it together.

_Everyone has a choice, Malfoy….I think it's only fair that you own up to that choice._

He made the choice to constantly ridicule her in front of their peers.

He made the choice to do the bidding of a madman who fought to rid the world of people like her.

Similarly, she pledged to fight for the opposite views. She was willing to die with her best friend for their cause; everything he was raised to fight against. And yet, here they stood, back in the place where it all started.

_You still hate me, don't you..._

He thought she still hated him.

But did she? Had she ever?

To this day, she had yet to answer him.

He took her hesitation as hitting too close to the truth and looked away uncomfortably.

"I'll see you in class." She heard him murmur. She nodded absentmindedly, listening to his fading steps as she dove deeper into her own thoughts.

At least now she understood; he had been resenting her because he thought her attempts to help him were out of pity. After all, why would you help someone you hated? While she felt a particular way about him, could she truly label it as _hate_?

It certainly would make things easier, she thought.

She hated Voldemort. She hated Bellatrix. She hated Professor Umbridge.

As they all gave proper reasons for her to feel such a way. In comparison, it wasn't really fair their upbringings had set them apart far before they were even born. Especially with his internal conflict that was now transparent to her.

_Clearly, he's still not over the past...and neither are you._

Hermione found herself even more puzzled than when she arrived that evening.

And if there was one thing she hated more than anything, it was questions left unanswered...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you all for being patient with me. See you at the next one! - E


	14. The Shift

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/n: This chapter was a bit of a doozy with getting the flow right but I think I finally got them where I want them. Now that we're over a third of the way to completion, just wanted say thank you to everyone who took the time to leave comments! It's so much fun seeing you all enjoy the story as it progresses and hearing your opinions. Here's a long chapter to make up for me taking forever to update!

Ch.13: The Shift

**October 6, 1998 - 7:24 AM**

"The rest of your evening went well, I take it?" Ginny prompted nonchalantly as she sipped on her tea.

Hermione swallowed the last of her pumpkin muffin. "Why do you ask?" She prompted, hoping she wouldn't regret asking as she swept the crumbs from her mouth with a clean napkin.

Ginny shrugged, appearing to be oblivious. Though the glint in her eyes told Hermione otherwise. "You seem to be in good spirits today, is all."

Hermione opened her mouth, ready to attest when something else caught her attention.

A glimpse of bright, blond hair projected from the table Slytherin students typically occupied on the other side of the room. Between the heads of Blaise and Theo — who were busy chattering away — sat Malfoy, amused at their antics as he stood from the table.

To say she hadn't noticed his absence at breakfast over the past few weeks would be a lie. Usually the other two would stop by the Gryffindor table to bear brief greetings prior to taking their usual spots at their table. They hadn't done so this morning and now she saw why. This time, they had their third companion in tow and it looked like they had been there for a while. Given the poor mood he had reportedly been in the last two weeks, this was a considerable improvement.

He straightened his robes while he prepared to leave. As if he felt her gaze, Malfoy paused halfway while packing his bag and looked up to meet her stare.

This time, she didn't look away. Instead, she blinked at him. Twice.

Much to her surprise, his lips twitched upwards as he gave her a curt nod in greeting before turning to make his exit from the Great Hall. Speechless, Hermione turned back to Ginny, whose expression was nothing short of smug.

"Well?" She said expectantly.

Hermione cleared her throat. "Yes...my evening went well."

"Good." Ginny said simply, as she resumed to sip from her tea with a satisfied grin.

* * *

**October 10, 1998 - 1:36 AM**

_._

_._

_._

_Hermione couldn't remember how she got here._

_Taking in her surroundings, she recognized it to be the dark corridors of Grimmauld Place once her eyesight settled. She walked on, entranced by an invisible pull. Like a magnetic force compelling her to leave the warmth behind and press onward but as she progressed, the atmosphere shifted._

_Gone were the lit candles and soft, inviting bed and the overwhelming warmth._

_Darkness encapsulated her rendering her practically blind._

_She couldn't see anything in front of her._

_Another thing that she couldn't shake off..._

_It was cold._

_Too cold._

_All she could focus on was the light tugging on her entire body. Persistently pulling on her._

_So she did the first thing that came to mind._

_She ran._

_Despite her inability to see, she trusted she was headed to where she needed to be as the invisible force led her through the darkness._

_Any noises were muffled by the loud pulsing in her ears._

_Her heart was racing._

_Her veins pumped with adrenaline._

_She needed to get away._

_To safety._

_Inhale._

_Exhale._

_In._

_Out._

_She reminded herself that she couldn't break down._

_She couldn't panic._

_Not now._

_After what felt like a millennium, she noticed there was a small amount of light visible._

_The corridor was still dark but she was able to make out large, grand portraits on the walls being blurred together as she blew past them._

_Mesmerized by their imposing characteristic, she found herself staring at each one she passed._

_Without looking in front of her, she came to an abrupt halt when she hit a solid object_ —

.

.

.

Hermione's eyes flew wide open.

She jerked up in her bed, chest heaving as she fought to catch her breath. Forcing her mind from empty thoughts and unpleasant sensations, she grabbed her watch from her nightstand to check the time.

2:38 AM

She stared at the time in horror and tossed her watch back on the nightstand before throwing herself back onto her bed in exhaustion.

An hour passed and she was still wide awake.

Once she came to the conclusion that she wouldn't be getting more sleep tonight, she threw her legs over the side of the bed and stood to extract fresh robes from her trunk in the dark. All while being careful not to wake anyone. She quickly dressed and grabbed her bag before making her way out of the dorms.

After years of sneaking around the castle with Harry and Ron, she had the lesser travelled pathways memorized like the back of her hand. She was fully aware wandering about the halls this late was a risky choice but she figured she may as well spend the rest of the evening productive rather than tossing and turning around aimlessly in bed.

Using light footwork and swift movements, she hustled through seemingly endless stairways and corridors until she reached her destination in record timing. At the door, Hermione murmured an incantation and pushed it open with ease. Once on the other side, she gently shut it closed and locked it with a resounding click.

" _Roaming about the halls at this late hour_?" Came a sneer from behind.

Startled, Hermione gasped sharply and pivoted to brace herself against the frame of the door, dropping her bag in the process. Her alert eyes softened slightly when they landed on the other occupant in the room.

"Malfoy." Hermione exhaled with difficulty, her heart still pounding forcefully in her chest. "What are you doing here?"

"I asked first." He quipped, seemingly unfazed by disheveled composure.

"I couldn't sleep." She said, almost defensively as she collected her bag from the floor and walked over to where he sat, conveniently situated as far away from the potion as physically possible.

"So you decided to look for trouble in the dead of night, instead. How fitting." He contributed dryly as he elegantly flipped a page.

"And what of yourself?" She countered dubiously.

He glanced down at himself as if to prove his point. With a book in hand, he was seated comfortably on a lounge she had transfigured from an old lamp several days ago. His legs were stretched out before him, only crossing at the ankle as his long body nearly took up the whole sectional.

"I hardly think reading in solitude constitutes as suspicious behavior." He drawled, watching her warily as she approached him. Coming to an abrupt halt at the lounge, she glared pointedly at him.

Or more specifically; at his feet.

"Problem with dragon leather?" He jeered.

"None, actually. I do, however, have a problem with you taking up the entire lounge," she retorted smartly, lightly tapping the side of his shoe. "Do you mind?"

"As a matter of fact—" he began what was sure to be a witty comment. Huffing, nodded her head to the side in a jerking motion. He let out a sound of surprise when all of a sudden, his entire figure was forced to rotate so that his legs swung over the side of the lounge, freeing up two whole spaces on the lounge.

He watched her in disbelief as she sat down beside him on the newly vacated cushions.

"You'd be surprised how often I had to do that to Harry and Ron." Hermione explained earnestly.

"I can't believe this—" he grumbled scornfully.

Hermione glanced at him sharply while extracting her newest book from her bag. "Need I remind you, I was the one who transfigured this lounge for us to _share._ "

His mouth twisted up at her as he shifted into a more comfortable position to accommodate for the involuntary predicament. Within minutes, they settled into their respective books with their potion bubbling lightly in the background.

Several chapters later, Hermione had reached a good stopping point. She marked her spot and let her eyes extract her from the realm of fantasy, drifting up to Malfoy who was now in her line of sight. Heavy concentration was embedded upon his features as his eyes trailed lightly over the pages. Her eyes fell to the book he held, grazing over the unfamiliar title and finding herself unable to read it. Scrunching her vision to focus on the words, it appeared to be in a different language.

"What's that you're reading?" She heard herself ask.

"You can see the title, can't you," he responded coolly, raising an eyebrow at her.

"I see it but I can't _read_ it. Mind translating for me?" She asked sweetly, her voice dripping with annoyance.

He exhaled, irritated. " _Escape from Evergreen._ And before you begin a slew of unnecessary questions, it is written entirely in French—"

"You can read French." she repeated, impressed.

"I can," he sniffed. "My family have — well, _had_ — several close ties in France. They deemed it necessary for me to learn at a young age."

"And here I thought your brain was incapable of anything besides conjuring sarcasm and misery." She said, struggling not to laugh at the appalled look on his face and failing miserably. "I've been enjoying a lovely book, myself," she offered as an opportunity for intellectual conversation.as an opportunity for intellectual conversation.

"Oh?"

She nodded in excitement, thrilled at the prospect of sharing her passion with someone who had a similar fancy for literature. "Have you read the 'Black Roses' series by A. Penmenski?"

"Oh." He scrunched his nose at the name.

"What is it?"

"Can't say I'm an advocate of his work. His novels are redundant and romanicised," he stated flatly, seemingly dismissive as he addressed her head-on. "Especially the 'Black Roses' series," he emphasized.

Astonished, she blinked at him. "How...how could you say such a thing?"

"Don't get me started on the latest book he released." His eyes gleamed with delight at her state of distress.

"So you've read it then." She was only halfway through the last book but even she, along with the majority of the population, felt it was his best work yet. No questions asked.

"Unfortunately, yes—" he started off in that derisive tone Hermione was beginning to associate as his default. "It was an absolute waste of time."

Hermione gaped at him, feeling betrayed somehow.

"Think of all the loose ends that would have been left untouched without the final book! Not to mention the character development that allows for the redemption of not one but _two_ of the most tragic characters—"

"Without the final book, it would have been a decent series." He abruptly cut her off.

"' _Would have been_?!' She exclaimed, flabbergasted. "It's one of the most appreciated series of all time! A well-written, established classic—!"

"Well-written? Debatable. A classic? Perhaps it is officially, though my judgement remains. They are overrated works of literature. Nothing more. Nothing less." He injected boorishly.

"Care to enlighten me on how you came to that conclusion?"

He shrugged his shoulders absentmindedly, his eyes glinting with mischief at her manic. "It's just another love story using the two characters he knew would receive the most sympathy. It's not original by any means. Even you can't deny its uninventive nature." He said, looking quite pleased with himself.

"It's unique in the mere fact that is not like any other love story. You've neglected to factor in the character development that occurs solely with the underlying conflicts that took place during their adolescence. Not to mention the unpredictability, the suspense, the allure of forbidden love—"

"It's a waste of time—" he repeated firmly.

"No it's not!" she debated. "It may not be completely essential to the original story line but—"

" _Exactly_. It's not essential. I don't understand why he had to make such a distasteful ending to the series. Everything prior was fine. Then he just had to go and ruin it with this half-arsed attempt to make money nearly a decade later."

She had no words. She opened and closed her mouth repeatedly, only being able to muster a meek, "I disagree."

He wasn't letting it down so easily. "That's it? No further arguments? Nothing to suggest that I'm wrong? Or that I'm pigheaded for believing such a thing?"

"There are plenty of other things factoring into your pigheadedness. You're entitled to your own opinion, misguided as it may be." She stated, deciding there was no point in dwelling on the topic any further. "It seems pointless to argue with someone with his head stuck so far up his own ego."

"Such foul language, Granger." He tutted.

"Matches perfectly with your poor taste in literature." she retorted, lacking any tones of animosity.

The corners of his lips quirked when she turned her nose up at him. He then closed his book and stood from the lounge and began putting on his robe.

"Offended you, have I?" she half joked with him, partially worried she overstepped and that he was leaving as a result.

Smirking, he shook his head. "Quite the contrary. But it's late and I think at least one of us should pay attention in class in the morning." Once he collected his items, he threw his bag over his shoulder.

He was almost out the door when she spoke up again.

"You never told me why you stayed late."

He stopped dead in his tracks.

She could already see his posture beginning to tense up and reacted quickly.

"I only want to make sure nothing went wrong with the potion, is all." She admitted truthfully.

He stood still for several moments, mulling over her words. "The potion was fine." He paused, considering. Then he continued, "I left and returned shortly before you arrived."

She stared at him curiously for he made no move to exit. It was like he expected her to ask him—

"Why?"

He threw her one last glance over his shoulder, allowing her to witness the unease in his eyes for the first time all evening.

"I couldn't sleep either."

* * *

 **October 1** **5** **, 1998 - 9:38 PM**

Her large brown eyes snapped up, widening with surprise as Malfoy flung open the door and used his body to slam it shut, frantically locking it.

She could tell he left straight from quidditch practice as he was currently donning the training gear. Her eyes trailed along his figure while he was preoccupied with brushing a few errant hairs back into place and straightening out his disheveled appearance.

"You're looking well." She noted, raising an eyebrow at him.

"Your commentary isn't needed," he snapped harshly, slightly out of breath as he walked further into the room. "I didn't come here for a social visit."

"What are you doing here, then?" she questioned with an undertone of suspicion.

He paused.

Then he cleared his throat. "If you must know, I'm hiding."

" _Hiding_." She echoed suspiciously, narrowing her eyes at him. "Hiding from what—?"

Their heads jerked towards the door when a knock sounded from the other side.

" _Draco?...are you in there_?"

Astoria.

He cursed under his breath and she threw him a dirty look. "You are not dragging me into your romantic quarrels, Malfoy," she scowled.

"Just continue with what you were doing." He muttered before making his way over to the locked entrance.

Begrudgingly doing as he said, she kept her head down in a textbook in hopes following through will make her go away sooner. When he opened the door, she had to force herself from wincing once she heard Astoria's sickly voice riddled with concern for him come through.

" _Draco, there you are. Are you alright? You left the pitch in a hurry."_

"I didn't feel like talking to anyone. It's been a long day."

Hermione could tell by his current state of exhaustion that he wasn't lying.

" _I shooed the other girls away. They won't be bothering you during practice anymore."_ She paused, likely expecting gratitude from him.

Hermione fought the urge to roll her eyes. There were many witches who liked to stack themselves at the path between the pitch and the boy's locker room. Several have dubbed this group as the quidditch fan club. While she could admit most of the current wizards at Hogwarts have aged well, she knew who they were really coming out for.

She wasn't blind.

He said nothing in response so Astoria continued. " _I wanted to talk to you about our last meeting wit_ —w _hat is_ she _doing here_?" Her eyes widened slightly. Hermione would have guessed she saw her past Malfoy's shoulder. Not like she would know as she kept her head down as instructed.

"Astoria—" he started warningly.

 _"You aren't supposed to be here with her,"_ she heard her hiss. " _What will Madame DuBois think when she hears that you've been spending your evenings with another woman_?" she nearly shrieked, not noticing Hermione lifting her head and flashing her eyes dangerously at her.

"The dramatics aren't necessary, Astoria. We can discuss this tomorrow—"

" _Draco, I'm not letting you be aloof about this._ "

"I'm not trying to be aloof," he tried to reassure her. "It's late, I've had a rather long day and there are other things I need to get done tonight—"

Something Hermione gained from the years of being the constant target of his hate was the ability to recognize the signs when he was cross by means of provoking; the prominent vein in his temple that pulsed. When his voice dropped to acquire a harsh bite. When his slightly slumped posture shifted to accommodate his full, towering height.

With those factors in mind, she knew his patience was wearing thinner by the minute. The last thing she needed was for the situation to escalate and cause their potion to become unstable.

" _We can't go into this marriage if we have a scandal like this hovering over our shoulders_ —"Astoria continued to berate, seemingly unaware.

When she saw the potion rumble and darken slightly in color as she continued, she knew she had to intervene.

"I hope you pardon my intrusion on this wondrous display of affairs—" Hermione kept her focus on the potion as she took on a tone of nonchalance, using it as a guide to keep her emotions even and to ensure she wasn't causing any drastic shifts. That meant she had to keep her head down but she didn't have to look up to know she had captured their full, undivided attention.

"—I will have you know Malfoy and I are perfectly capable of being professional and I see absolutely no reason why you feel it is necessary to discuss this at the present moment." She paused, the ghost of a smirk presenting itself as she decided to try a new card. "Unless...it is because you don't trust him." She finished with a tone of finality.

She took the risk and looked up to find Malfoy staring at her in awe and Astoria completely stunned into speechlessness.

"How—how _dare_ you." She began to hiss.

"How dare _you_ —" Hermione interrupted fluidly, pointing her ladle at her like a mother scolding her child. "You come intruding in my sanctum where I am brewing a potion for academic purposes and you're here spewing off vile and heinous accusations about my partner and I; my partner, who I know would rather be anywhere else than spend an entire evening with me. So unless you plan on getting your hands dirty by means of extracting blood from a toad, I highly suggest you leave us to it."

With an over-dramatized scoff, Astoria turned her heel and walked off.

Wordlessly, Malfoy closed the door as Hermione resumed organizing their workstation as if nothing out of the ordinary had transpired.

"The potion doesn't call for toad's blood." She heard him say.

"Did you want to run and tell her that?"

After a moment's beat, he chuckled lightly. She didn't know which part she wanted to dwell on more; the fact that for the first time in her life, she was successful at conjuring and delivering a lie, or the full blown wonderment and complacency displayed on Malfoy's face. She found it was easier to decipher the latter as she knew there was no mistaking it this time.

He was thoroughly impressed.

* * *

**November 4, 1998 - 7:38 PM**

Overall, the past few weeks have been peaceful.

So peaceful, Hermione would dare call them some of the best weeks she's had at school to date — excluding those involving exams of any sort. Even when she took her O.W.L.s. No impending threats had occurred, her grades were beyond satisfactory — _as expected_ — and best of all, their potion was prospering without any major issues.

Subsequently, her encounters with Malfoy improved as well.

In the weeks that followed the incident with Astoria, she seemed to have gained a new sense of respect from him. He started making appearances on a few of the nights she was scheduled to watch over their potion. Halfway through the night, he would arrive and seat himself on the lounge to study or complete homework. Sometimes without saying a single word. She didn't dare question it or disturb him, knowing how peculiar she was with her own study habits.

Most nights, they kept to themselves. Other nights, they would engage in small banter. Even throwing the occasional jab at each other without having to extract their wands and that was more than she could ask for.

It seemed her year had finally taken a turn for the better. Even her social life was well maintained with old friends and new, even old enemies turned into...something else. She even managed to keep in touch with Harry regularly. All of these factors almost caused her to forget about her unresolved issues with Ron.

Almost.

Seemingly out of nowhere, she received a letter from him this morning, marking the first time she had heard from him since their parting at King's Cross. Fast forward to the current moment where she sat in the middle of study hall with Ginny.

Instead of completing next week's assignments or reading the novel she selected earlier this week for leisure, her mind had decisively set on reciting the words from his letter over and over:

_Hermione,_

_I hope you've been doing well._ _I'll be at the Hog's Inn with some coworkers if you want to meet me there._

_Best, Ron_

Truth be told, she would have thought it was fake if his handwriting weren't so easily distinguishable. Ever since she opened his letter, her cognitive functions had been on overdrive, rendering her incapable of focusing on anything else all day. This only added to her frustrations, knowing she would have to make up for her mental absence during classes at some point.

"Are you going?" Ginny asked, fully aware of where her mind was.

"I don't know. This Saturday is my turn to watch the potion—"

"I'm sure Blondie wouldn't mind taking over for a night," she paused, looking past her shoulder. "but you probably don't want to ask him tonight."

That caught Hermione's attention. "Why do you say that?"

"See for yourself." Ginny nodded in a direction behind her. Hermione turned her head to see Malfoy seated with Blaise and Theo on the other side of the room. The former had a book open in his lap while the latter pair appeared to be interrogating him. It seemed whatever the subject matter was, it wasn't a conversation he wanted to partake in.

"What do you think they're talking about?" Ginny asked, catching sight of Malfoy slamming his book shut and standing in a subdued rage.

"How should I know? It's not any of my business." She turned back around, refusing to let herself get caught up in any more of his disputes. Especially when she was undergoing her own personal bedlam.

"Considering how much time you've been spending together, I think it is." She stated sternly before her expression turned into a panicked one. "Quick, act natural." Ginny whispered hurriedly as she stuck her head into her book.

Hermione frowned at her. "What's the matter with y—?" She froze when someone cleared their throat behind her.

"It's time. Are you ready to go?" The smooth voice acting as a mild sedative to her nerves.

Hermione nodded hesitantly, grabbing her bag as she stood to leave. "I'm ready." She responded, her voice unwavering. "I'll see you later, Ginny" she said to the redhead, who could only nod dumbfoundedly as they proceeded to make their exit out of study hall together.

The journey was quiet with him taking the lead and her trailing behind by a few feet. The silence proved to be an adversary contributing to their troubled minds. Hermione dreaded the moment they arrived, fully aware she was going to be forced to keep her emotions to a minimum for the next hour or so. She told herself it would be a short night and they should manage without any issues...right?

Once they reached the door, he made no sudden movements. Instead, he stayed perfectly still. Contemplating.

Then she stepped up to him.

"Are you alright?" She implored as he inhaled sharply and stiffened even further.

"I'm fine." He quipped promptly while gripping the doorknob tightly.

"Let's get this done."

* * *

It turned out diving in head first was not the best method of approach.

"Well this isn't good—"

"Really? You don't say—"

"Don't berate me, Granger—"

"It's not my fault you didn't neutralize it properly."

"There was nothing to neutralize. I didn't put in the powder—" he noted calmly.

" _What_?" Hermione shrieked. "What do you mean you haven't added the powder?"

"For fuck's sake," he groaned in exasperation. "I can't add anything. In case you haven't noticed Granger, our potion is on _fire_ —"

"And if it's not because we altered the composition, what else could it be, I wonder." She could tell he didn't appreciate her accusatory tone.

"You're blaming me." He noted, emotionlessly.

"Because you know exactly why it's acting this way," she snapped, setting his eyes ablaze.

"You're right. I do—" he replied breezily, suddenly grabbing her wrist and yanking her from the room.

"Malfoy, the potion—" she flinched when he swiftly slammed the door shut behind them.

"The potion is better off without you adding fuel to the fire. Go on then," he instructed blankly as he crossed his arms, watching her expectantly.

"And what exactly is it you're expecting me to do—?" She asked slowly, uncertain.

"Don't think I haven't noticed you sulking about all evening," Malfoy noted. "I want you to _talk,_ Granger."

She gaped at him before huffing a harsh laugh. "You can't be serious."

He clenched his jaw. "Try me."

"Why?" she asked, disbelieving.

"We have to complete the second phase of the potion tonight."

"Is that all?" She retorted, unconvinced.

With a snide smirk, he replied. "I said I was going to try and tolerate you, didn't I?"

"Forgive me if I choose not to believe every word you say," she shot back defensively, expecting him to retract but he was unperturbed. Almost as if he expected her to exude such behavior.

"You're free to believe what you want, Granger. It's not like I'm in any position to fault you for it." He admitted dryly.

Malfoy's composed exterior was the necessary contrast to her tempered, unstable form. As her pride and anger began to dissipate with his words, the reality of the situation became clear to her. She was letting her frustrations take over, irrationalities surfacing. And true to his word, he refrained from unneeded remarks or side-handed comments. More than that, he was being patient with her.

"Malfoy, I—I didn't mean—" she only mildly stumbled with her words, discomfited for letting her emotions get out of hand.

"I'm going back inside." He stated firmly. "You can come inside if you've collected yourself. Otherwise, I will see you in the morning—"

As he turned to head back inside, he found himself unable to reach the door. Much to his surprise, Hermione had grabbed onto his arm to keep him from advancing any further.

And so he stayed put. Waiting.

"Ron sent me a letter this morning," she finally admitted. "It's the first time I've heard from him since we started school. I had been sending letters to both of them and gotten responses from Harry" She paused, considering her next words carefully. "I was mistaken. About Ron and I. When we finally had time to ourselves, we discovered that we weren't all that compatible."

He feigned an expression of shock, "Really? Whatever gave you that idea?"

She elbowed him, ignoring his grunt of discomfort.

"What did he say?" He asked as he rubbed his recently injured rib cage.

"He's going out with his coworkers in Hogsmeade this weekend. He wants me to meet him there."

He barked out a laugh, "What a coward."

"You're one to talk!" She bit her lip when the words fell out of her mouth, hoping he didn't react too negatively. Much to her shock, he simply shook his head and grinned smugly.

"Courage has never been my strong suit. He's a bloody Gryffindor for Merlin's sake. It's such a half-arsed attempt to reach out to you. He's doing it this way so you don't hex him into oblivion. Probably needs you to do his auror homework or something." He half-joked.

"Malfoy. I thought we agreed you weren't going to talk about them like that." She reminded, a tone of warning beginning to surface.

"Not my fault he's a predictable simpleton." he grumbled under his breath.

"What was that?" She asked hotly, placing her hands on her hips as an attempt to appear authoritative.

"Nothing." He responded briskly. "So what finally did it? Another argument in regards to your shockingly incompatible personalities?"

"We weren't arguing. We just couldn't come to an agreement."

Malfoy eyed her with amusement. "Is that not what an argument is?"

"Contrary to popular belief, there is a difference between an argument and disagreement." She chuckled lightly, "There was never any malice or bad blood between us," she continued, not noticing his composure shift briefly. "We simply stopped seeing eye-to-eye. Or perhaps we never did. Ron's always been an easy person. He knew what he wanted."

"And you didn't?"

"I knew I wanted more than just a title. I didn't want the fame and glamorous job I didn't feel I had truly earned. I was foolish for believing starting a relationship with him would solve everything. Like it would provide me with some form of closure. If anything, it made me realize there's a part of my life I'll never get back —" she trailed off.

"You wanted to feel something — _anything._ And the harder you tried to feel, the more pain it ended up causing you."

He spoke softly, yet she was able to hear every word. That was what she failed to convey to Ginny because she never knew how to put it in words like he just did.

She stared at him in awe. Then his eyes met hers.

Simultaneously, they looked down to where her hand was firmly latched onto his arm. She let go of him, feeling her cheeks heat and refusing to meet his gaze again.

He cleared his throat in discomfort. "We should get started." He proceeded to open the door and this time, she didn't stop him.

Once the door closed behind him, she let her thoughts drift away yet again. Tonight had shown their progression on another level beyond her expectations.

It was like they were seeing one another for the first time with an immediate understanding between them. With that simple fact, she accepted the unspoken truths they didn't dare touch for the time being.

On the other hand, she would be delighted if she never had to address the unanticipated fluttering in her chest.

The night progressed as originally planned. For the majority of it, they didn't speak outside of what was necessary; she recited instructions and kept the brew in motion as he prepped the few ingredients she listed. While in a trance induced by their relaxing ambiance, her mind began to drift again.

She hadn't felt this at peace with herself all day. Much to her surprise, it was all because of Malfoy, who had taken the time to listen to her and let her have the chance to vent. She looked past her shoulder to see him shuffle through various bottles as he searched for the next ingredient. He maintained his usual icy façade. Then she thought back to how tense he had been when he first approached her this evening. Despite his calm exterior, she knew deep inside there was a considerable amount of turbulence than he was willing to admit.

_After practicing Quidditch with him and talking to Blaise a bit about their past, it may be worth it to talk to him. And I mean, really talk to him..._

"What about you?" She blurted aloud as he found the bottle he had been searching for. He glanced over, silently asking for clarification so she continued. "You should talk about what's been bothering you."

"You're barking."

"No. I'm quite serious." She deadpanned.

"I don't think that will be necessary." He grunted as he opened the container of preserved butterfly wings.

"But—"

"I wanted you to talk because it was detrimental to our potion. Clearly, I'm fine."

She took in his icy façade as he drained the wings of their preserving fluid, fully aware as to why their potion hadn't been affected by his own inner turmoil.

"You're very skilled, Malfoy." She analyzed and he remained silent, continuing to pour the liquid down the sink. "I know you've been keeping your occulmency walls up this whole time."

He pursed his lips in response. "I hardly think this is an appropriate time. Not to mention it'll risk setting off the potion."

She threw him a grin. A grin she saved for moments when she was being knowingly clever.

"You've had to suppress your deepest thoughts and fears from a dark, powerful madman living in your own home." She saw, for a brief moment, his lips twitch upward. "I won't press and I won't antagonize you. I know you don't want to but it does feel better to talk about it."

He said nothing further when he finished straining the residual liquid, walked over to her and tossed the drained wings into the cauldron.

Midway through incorporating the added ingredient, Hermione could hear him taking deeper breaths than usual.

When he spoke next, his tone had been deadened, completely devoid of any emotion. "Since the school year began, Astoria and I have weekly mandatory meetings with the officiate. To say she hasn't been pleasant to deal with in the last few is an understatement."

"It isn't because of what I said, is it?" she asked tentatively, taking their encounter a few weeks ago into account.

He failed to conceal his grimace and she was positively horrified. Her tone drastically contrasting from the confident one she enforced all those weeks ago. "Oh Merlin, no—"

Her mortification only grew when he smirked triumphantly. "Not to worry, Granger. While I know she doesn't share my sentiment, I found your outburst to be quite the spectacle."

She plopped her head in her hands and groaned aloud when she heard him chuckle lowly in amusement. "Regardless, I apologize. My intentions were not to worsen the circumstances between you two. Nor damage any preexisting relationship I held with her."

He paused, considering her candor. "I appreciate your concerns, Granger but I should tell you she already had her predispositions regarding my working with you."

"Why? I already told her I didn't see you in that way—" she trailed off when he shook his head.

"It doesn't matter. However considerably insignificant the time we spend together may be, you are now a part of my daily life and that fact alone means you're a subject that constantly gets brought up in our meetings."

Hermione swallowed the lump on her throat his words created. She never would have expected this would become her life; a conflict in Draco Malfoy's love life because they were partners for a school assignment.

"What exactly goes into these meetings, if you don't mind my asking?" She implored curiously.

He sighed before answering, "In essence, it's an entire day devoted to discussing and practicing proper etiquette with our officiate. Mind you, these are things that we were already taught in our youth. Another portion of the day involves having one-on-one sessions with her where we talk about our day and how we integrate the other into it. The meetings usually conclude with what we plan to do in our future together."

It honestly seemed a bit excessive in her opinion. Instead of voicing it, she held back her tongue and stayed quiet and attentive.

"Traditionally, when Pureblooded witches and wizards marry, it's quite an ordeal. Especially when you have ones who come from old-fashioned families like ours," he explained. "I told her from the beginning that school was and should be, the main priority. She agreed at the time but now that we're a few months in, she's already gone ballistic, laying claims that I spend too much time with my friends and other witches to have any for her."

From the little exposure she had with Astoria and hearing her friends' experiences, she has noticed her demeanor change since she first encountered her on the train.

"What does your officiate have to say about her behavior?"

"Madame Dubois has always adored the Greengrass family." He added dully.

She waited for him to say the same for his family. But it never came.

Hermione held back from going off on a tangent regarding how unfair that whole situation was. Astoria had clearly changed since the process began. But how could she? Sure, their dynamic had changed but it was still delicate and new. While she had many questions regarding the process, the one she kept circling back to was how often was she brought up in these weekly meetings? Wait.

 _Weekly_ meetings.

"Malfoy, these meetings...do they happen to take place on Sundays?"

He didn't answer. To be fair, she didn't really need his confirmation to know she was correct in her assumptions.

She felt a pang of guilt for giving him grief for not eating or acting like he was too busy to give her the time of day. Now she understood. His alleged 'obligations' she never believed to exist were indeed very real.

"She cares about you." She offered after a moment's pause. At least that much she knew to be true.

She heard him exhale slowly before saying, "I know."

They didn't speak beyond that as they proceeded with the last additions for the evening.

Once finished, they cleared up their area and collected their belongings.

"When is he expecting you?" he asked suddenly, catching her off guard from packing the rest of her bag.

"Saturday evening."

He paused, sorting through a series of calculations in his head. "I can watch the potion if you'd like."

She gaped at him, floored by his generosity. "That's...awfully kind of you."

He grimaced at her choice of words. "Don't ever say that again."

* * *

**November 7, 1998 - 11:44 PM**

The Hogs Inn wasn't particularly known for its hospitality or its splendorous décor. Most of the time, it was crowded and dingy, perfect for anyone looking for a place to escape and drink their sorrows from the work week away.

Hermione glanced around, looking past stumbling and roaming figures for a familiar head of red in the filled, dark room.

" _Well hello there_ — _"_ A deep voice caught her off guard, causing her to jump in place. She spun around and found herself face to face with an unfamiliar, attractive face.

"Granger, right?" She tried not to grimace at the imposing character's usage of her surname. Not when she had become familiar to others close to her using it on a regular basis. Or really one person in particular—

"Yes, that's me." She answered hesitantly.

"Auror Jeremy Adams." He held out his hand invitingly. "I work closely with your friends, Aurors Potter and Weasley. Though I wouldn't mind getting on a first name basis." He smiled slyly when her cheeks reddened at his forwardness.

"Perhaps later," she clarified, eventually accepting his hand to shake. "It's a pleasure to meet you."

"Likewise. I'm ordering a round of Ogden's for my mates and I. Would you care for one?"

She prepared to decline as she was very well aware of the effects alcohol had on her.

" _She'll pass, Adams. She's more of a butterbeer kind of gal—_ "

Months ago, that particular voice had the ability to make her stomach flip and her head spin. Whereas now, it made the veins in her body run cold. When she felt the vibrancy of rebellion begin to surface, she willingly let it take over.

Conjuring a fake smile, she beamed at the handsome auror in front of her, "Actually yes. I would love one."

Grinning enthusiastically, he winked at her. "Coming right up."

Without another word, he ducked away and headed straight for the bar. His company was quickly replaced with the wizard she had been in search of all evening. Aside from the guilt-ridden expression, he hadn't changed much in physical appearance. Though she couldn't say the same for his equanimity. She could tell the past few months had changed him, the stresses of auror training having taken their toll. Hermione didn't like to ponder on some of the things he had probably seen as Harry mentioned they were delving deeper into the more horrific crimes that were kept concealed. Things she knew he could have gone his entire life without seeing.

It was strange...seeing a person she had known nearly half her life while feeling like he was a complete stranger as he stood in front of her.

"Hey 'Mione," he greeted nervously with his hands deep in his pockets.

"Ronald." He grimaced at the iciness in her tone.

"So...how've you been?" He offered hesitantly.

"What do _you_ think?" She snapped, crossing her arms in front of her chest.

Ron drew back, unsure of how to mediate her resentment towards him. "You look well," he tried.

"You can't be serious," she huffed angrily, glowering at him in disbelief. "It's been nearly two months, Ronald! Two months of ignoring my letters or any acknowledgement of my existence, all you can say is I look well?"

"I've been really busy _—_ "

"And you couldn't have written a short response saying that? I would have understood."

The last of his restraint broke and he let the floodgates open. "What could I have said, Hermione? You were already upset with me. You would have thought I was making excuses."

Hermione bit back a furious retort, knowing he wasn't wrong in his assumptions.

"And it's not like I could tell you about work anyway _—_ "

"You don't have to talk about your work. There are plenty of other things to discuss. Like your well-being or what you're eating for dinner. _Anything_. Harry's in the same situation as you and he managed."

"It's different," he blurted before retracting with regret.

At that, her eyes narrowed at him. "How is it different?"

He winced. "Well, for starters," he cleared his throat. "I didn't want to distract you from school."

"You'll have to do better than that—"

"Wait Hermione, hear me out." He clarified hastily. "After Harry and I left King's Cross, we talked about you. We felt like you deserved to have a school year to yourself without worrying about us. Me in particular. I'm sorry. I really am but I told myself that I wasn't going to be a distraction. I've held you back long enough," he admitted pitifully.

Hermione felt the pent up anger dissipate at his verbiage. "You really mean that."

"Of course I do. Granted, I didn't expect it to affect you as much as it did and I feel terrible. I'm sure Ginny's had her hands full substituting for both Harry and I." he threw her his lopsided grin that she used to be fond of.

Except her smile disappeared as quickly as it came when she realized his insinuations. He wasn't aware of the people she had befriended since the start of the year. She hadn't even mentioned it to Harry. The two of them had been spending the last few weeks digging into the lives of many death eaters. Some of which had familial ties to the people she got along with.

She was forced from her thoughts when Adams thrust a tray of shot glasses in front of her with a flirtatious smile. "Ogden's for the lady?"

Graciously, she took a random glass and thanked him.

He smiled earnestly at her, which she returned.

"What was that?" Ron asked, visibly agitated when Adams walked off to hand off the rest of the shots.

"What was what?" Feigning innocence as she swirled the brown liquid in her glass.

"You were flirting with him."

"I wasn't flirting with him. Either way, I don't think it's any of your concern." She countered defensively and with utmost hesitance, she took a sip of the whisky, wincing at the burn as it traveled down her throat. She only managed three sips before she had to put the glass down.

"You're supposed to drink the whole thing in one go." He contributed, bemused.

"I prefer to drink it this way." She stated, suddenly feeling a wave of bravery wash over her. "And I'll have you know, I've actually made some friends this year."

His eyebrows shot up. "Really?"

"Why is that such a shock?"

"I didn't expect you to reach out to people in your last year at Hogwarts, is all." He explained.

"Professor McGonagall is headmaster now. A significant change she encouraged was more interactions between houses. To make Hogwarts not feel as divided, so to speak." She took another sip. Oddly enough, the burn was becoming pleasant to her.

"Oh. That's not a bad idea. We've always got on well with other houses. It's not like you're befriending Slytherins or anything."

She winced, choosing to remain silent rather than attempt to lie.

He inhaled sharply in horror, "No. Mione, please tell me you haven't."

She quickly downed the rest of the liquid before answering. "What if I have? Times have changed, Ronald. And so have they."

"They're the bloody enemy—" he argued.

"They _were_ the enemy." She tilted her glass at him for emphasis. She observed the empty glassware curiously, deciding she would make the most of her night while she had the chance. "Could I have another?" she asked aloud to the bartender, waving her glass in the air. She made a noise of appreciation when the glass was magically filled.

"This is serious, Hermione." Ron hissed under his breath. "Who have you been talking to?" He demanded.

She didn't know if it was his sudden invasiveness or the whisky, but she was not pleased in the slightest.

"I hardly think that's any of your business." She quipped while continuing to sip on her drink.

"Of course it's my business. You getting involved with them dangerous and I'm concerned for your safety if I'm honest—"

Her eyes shot open in disbelief. "My _safety_ —?"

"They hate everything we stand for. They wanted people like you dead." He continued, ignoring her.

"How else do you expect them to act when they were raised to behave that way? They were _children_ , Ronald. Children who were thrown into the war, just like us. I'd like to think they can make those distinctions for themselves at this point."

"You of all people should know better than to believe everything they tell you. They're snakes for a reason."

"You're generalizing—"

"No, I'm not. I've seen what these people did, Hermione. I've seen what they're capable of."

"So have I." She drank the last of her shot and it was filled instantaneously. "And there's not a day goes by that I don't have nightmares of dead, bloody bodies at the castle. You have dealt with death eaters who don't wish to change and deserve to suffer for what they've done. The ones I see everyday are the ones who chose to return to Hogwarts because they genuinely want to be there."

"I'm only concerned for you." He admitted earnestly.

"And I beg of you to stop. Especially when you're harbouring your own secrets." She downed the next shot in one go and slammed the glass on the table while glaring at him pointedly.

"I-I don't know what you're—" he babbled while eyeing her empty glass warily.

"Cut the bullshite, Ronald." His mouth closed abruptly, wide-eyed at her straightforwardness. She however, felt no penitence as the liquid courage shot through her like Fiendfyre. "I know there's something else. Something unrelated to your work that you're not telling me." There it was again. That flash of guilt in his eyes that gave him away the first time.

"Out with it, Ron."

A moment's pause passed before he finally responded.

"I'm seeing someone."

She felt the air leave her lungs.

"Is it someone I know?" She forced out.

_Breathe, Hermione. Breathe._

"I'd rather not disclose too much information. It's still fairly new. Harry doesn't even know."

"How does he not know? You live together." She asked incredulously.

"He doesn't know who it is" he corrected, growing more uncomfortable the more she became riled up.

All of a sudden, she felt her body flush with warmth, feeling light in her shoes.

Once she came to the realization she needed to leave before she said anything she would regret, she attempted to force a smile. "Well, I hope she makes you happy." She stumbled in her step and let out a gasp when he caught her by the arm, steadying her.

"Hold on, Hermione. You've had too much. I should take you back to Hogwarts."

"Let me go." She warned, dangerously low.

"Hermione, please. Let me take you home." He urged.

Despite having the whisky she ingested far too quickly taking over, she still was able to register the instinct to get as far away from him as possible.

She wrenched her arm out of his hold. "I'll be fine...I just need to go."

"You can't get anywhere like this—"

"I'll manage. Goodbye, Ron."

"Hermione, wait!"

"—and don't you dare follow me out."

Hermione managed to make her way out the door but didn't get far past the entrance as someone grabbed her from behind, holding her in place.

"No, get off!" She grunted and squirmed in the stranger's grasp.

"Hey, hey. Relax." She froze at the sound of Auror Adams' voice. "Come on now, I'm going to get you home."

" _Auror Adams. Fancy seeing you here._ " Came a low tone.

Even moderately intoxicated, she would recognize that drawl anywhere.

"Malfoy." He acknowledged.

They knew each other?

"I do hope you're on your best behavior." Something about the aversion in Adams' tone didn't sit right with her.

" _Just enjoying a Saturday evening._ _You seem to be making good use of your night._ "

Why was his grip so tight? Maybe if she wriggled around a bit more, she could get free without Malfoy recognizing her face—

" _Granger_?"

Shit.

Shitshitshitshitshit.

" _What have you done to her?_ " In the midst of her stupor, the danger in his voice was difficult to misplace.

Adams, on the other hand, seemed a bit disgruntled at the opposition in his tone. "She's had a bit much to drink is all. Rest assured, she's in good hands." He tightened his grip on her. Hermione made a noise of discomfort and used the last bit of her strength to finally wrestle herself free from his grasp. She lost her balance, causing her lithe body to fall slump against Malfoy who managed to catch her just in time to keep her from face planting on the ground.

" _Stop fooling around, Granger. We need to get you home_."

She found herself hating the sound of her surname on the auror's tongue, feeling like pin pricks in her ears. Instead of letting go at his insistence, she whimpered at the unpleasant sensation and nestled her face into the warm body she was leaning against.

She could hear a few more words exchanged before the sound of the Adams' shoes fading away took over. Once they completely dissipated, she found herself relaxing in the blond's hold, her nerves being put to rest for the first time all evening.

"Did you find Weasley?" She heard him say after a few moments of silence.

She only grunted in response, refusing to leave the warmth.

"Well where is he?"

"—"

"What?"

"—"

"Use your words, Granger."

She lifted her face from his chest enough to mumble. "I left him...he wanted me to come...he's with...he's with someone else."

"Shite. You have awful taste in men." He grumbled under his breath. "Come on. We need to get you out of here." Holding her steady so that she could stand on her own feet, they slowly made their way from the bar.

"What are you doing here? You were suppos'd to be watching the potion." She eventually asked with a slight slur when they reached the edge of Hogsmeade.

"It's nearly one in the morning, Granger. I wasn't planning on spending my entire Saturday evening watching a potion."

She started to count her steps as they walked, frustrated when she couldn't keep her numbers straight past ten.

"You haven't told me why you were here," she asked, deciding to put her focus on anything else.

"What is this, an interrogation?" He scoffed. "I wanted a drink."

"Is it because of Astoria?"

"No."

"Blaise?"

"No."

"Theo?"

"No."

"Harry?"

" _Fuck_ no."

"What is it, then?"

"I would have left you with that bloody auror had known you were going to be like this." he grumbled under his breath.

"I'm only asking, Malfoy."

"Well don't ask," he nearly snarled at her.

"I don't understand why you keep shutting me out...your friends had no issues with opening up to me. What is it with you?" She pouted, too far gone to care about how hysterical she sounded. "It's because of my _filthy_ blood, isn't it?" she spat pitifully, feeling a blemish of rage spark from deep within.

"It has nothing to do with your blood, Granger." She heard him say calmly.

"Then why?"

Just when she thought he was going to leave the question unanswered, he spoke.

"You hate me."

She stopped walking.

And so did he.

She lifted her head to take him in. Her eyes — while still evidently muddled — were slightly clearer as she attempted to focus her gaze on him.

When she looked at him, she could still see the shadow of the boy who called her a foul name in the middle of the courtyard. She could still hear him laughing along with his schoolmates when her teeth were enlarged by means of his hex.

In retrospect, she could still see the glimpses of desperation and fear he tried to blanket behind his walls. She could still hear the sobs he dispelled when he thought he was alone.

There was a time, she hazily recalled, when she could easily claim that to be true. On the multiple occasions others tried to suede her to his changed perspectives, she refused to believe them every time. Why would she when everything he had done up to this point showcased how much he hated her.

While it may have been true at one point, just his actions this evening alone told her otherwise. Their interactions and cooperation the last two months spurred a new level of complexity than either of them were willing to address. But at least now, Hermione could answer one thing with certainty;

"I don't hate you." She admitted quietly, just before a sharp pain hit her.

"Ah—" She gripped her head tightly.

"Granger? What is it?" he asked, a trace of concern overtaking his features.

She registered that her mind and body were beginning to shut down, with every inch of her screaming to be put to rest.

Thankfully, he reached out to steady her right when her legs decided to give out.

" _Mal...Malfoy_ —" she grimaced as her head became heavy, tilting it back against the crease of his arm. Then, a pleasant aroma filled her senses. "Mmm...you...mm...smell…"

"What?" She was too far gone to notice the light flushing on the tops of his cheeks.

She groggily smiled and nuzzled the sleeve of his shirt weakly. "You smell like...apples."

The last thing she saw were a pair of silver, alert eyes focused on her before everything went black.

* * *

**November 8, 1998 - 11:12 AM**

Hermione woke up that morning to a throbbing headache, a dry mouth, and a concerned Ginny hovering directly above her. She sat up slowly, releasing a groan and balanced her head in her hands as it throbbed.

"Ginny...what happened last night?"

"How much do you remember?" She asked.

"Not much...why am I covered in bruises?" She said, horrified as she examined her arms which were riddled with finger-shaped, purple splotches.

"You were at the Hog's Inn visiting Ron. There was a man there. A friend of his."

"Oh. Did he...?"

"No. He was an auror. I think he tried getting you home but you put up quite a fight." She gestured to the markings trailing along her arms.

"So he didn't bring me here?"

She shook her head. "No, he didn't."

"Then how did I get back here? I don't remember walking home last night—"

" _Ah, our Princess has awakened_ —"

If those words didn't cause her stomach to drop, the person who said them certainly did.

Hermione jerked up in surprise, turning behind her to see faces she didn't expect to see. The cloudiness dissipated and her eyes landed on Blaise Zabini, leaning against the doorway with his arms crossed. Then she glanced down at the bed sheets covering her body.

Dark, velvet green.

She choked.

"Oh Godric, no." She squeaked.

Seemingly out of nowhere, Theo walked in past Blaise and up to her with a vial in hand.

"Morning, Granger. You may want to take this now." He chirped, holding out the vial in front of her to take. Though she remained frozen as she took in her surroundings.

"I'm in the Slytherin dormitories," she realized.

"Good to see she hasn't lost her ability to point out the obvious." Blaise remarked.

Her eyes narrowed to slits when she grabbed the vial from Theo. "I'm obviously stuck in a nightmare because I would never be caught dead in your bed." Her voice clipped before she uncapped the vial and drank it with one swallow.

Theo grinned widely while Blaise whistled, "Even hungover, Golden Girl's still got some fire in her." His dark chuckle vibrated in sync with Hermione's aching head. "You're not in _my_ bed, Princess."

What? Then whose bed was she in...?

As the ache in her head began to clear, she remembered the soft silk feeling against her cheek when she woke up this morning. Her eyes fell on the rich cashmere blanket on top of her. Then the smell hit her.

Fresh parchment.

Expensive cologne.

And...

_Apples?_

_Oh._

"Did I? Did we—" She rambled hysterically. Truthfully, she didn't even know what she was asking.

But Blaise seemed to understand completely. "Not to worry, Princess. He slept on the floor like a true gentleman and made sure no one bothered you."

"Draco was going to take you to your room but didn't have access," Theo added. "So he brought you here instead."

Furrowing her brow, Hermione looked around for him. The room was empty save for the four of them. "Where is he?"

Ginny looked at her guiltily while Theo and Blaise eyed each other, uncertain. Like they were searching for affirmation.

"He's with Astoria." Theo eventually offered, like that was enough information to answer her question.

As the haze continued to fade, it became clear to her.

It was Sunday.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/n: Are you guys feeling the beginnings of a small flame, yet? :P


	15. The Match

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Trigger warning. There is minor depiction of violence and blood.

Ch.14 The Match

**November 14, 1998**

"Ginny?"

"Hmm?"

"Care to remind me why we're here again?" Hermione groaned in protest as her companion searched for seats high up in the stands.

"Hermione, it's the first game of the year!" She answered excitedly. "Not to mention it's the perfect opportunity for me to scope out the competition." Ginny grinned mischievously, rubbing her hands together like a madman planning an evil plot.

Hermione only rolled her eyes in retaliation as she successfully spotted a place for them to sit.

"I know that's why you're here. But why am _I_ here?" Hermione asked loudly, the crowd suddenly becoming alive as the Ravenclaw players whizzed out onto the field in a V formation.

"Who's to say I didn't want us to spend quality girl time together?" Ginny asked before joining the crowd in their loud cheers.

"You mean other than the fact that I know you'd be lying." Hermione mumbled sarcastically.

The redhead tisked in disagreement. "Not entirely."

Before she could get another word out, six figures clad in green had zoomed past them. The last one in the line up almost took the breath from Hermione's lungs with them and knocked her off balance when they passed. While holding down her hair as it attempted to break free from the copious amounts of Sleekeazy's Hair Potion, she glared at the amused face of Blaise Zabini who simply saluted at the pair of Gryffindors standing out in the sea of blue, seemingly proud of himself.

While she was preoccupied with straightening out the aftermath of Zabini's antics, another figure flew past them who was successful in knocking Hermione off her feet, forcing her to fall back onto her seat.

Hermione angrily brushed aside the curls of her now unruly hair and reluctantly directed her attention to the seventh and final Slytherin player that had blazed past them. His speed was what made him stand out. And if his smaller stature didn't give him away, then the sunlight reflecting off his white-blond head did.

Though she did notice that unlike Blaise, this player did not address them after he passed.

Ginny fought back a laugh when the muggleborn witch huffed in frustration. "Loving the new look, Mione—"

"Oh hush, you. This took forever to tame this morning." She snapped.

She only grinned at her in response, "Relax, Hermione. They're just having a bit of fun. And don't pretend like you don't have extra potion in your bag."

"That doesn't make it any less infuriating." She grumbled as she dug through her bag in search of said hair potion.

The redhead sighed, "Anyways, I know you only used to come to the Gryffindor games to support Harry. And of course Ron in the later years but I thought you might want to come and support our other friends. Not to mention Luna will be the commentator for the game—"

Hermione glanced back at the players as they lined up in preparation for the arrival of the umpire to commence the start of the game.

Despite her apathy towards the sport, she'd be lying if she said part of her hadn't been looking forward to seeing the copious amounts of hard work and practice her classmates — _it was still too early to coin the term 'friends'_ — endured finally be put to use. Though Gryffindor's match with Slytherin had been rescheduled to take place in the next term, she couldn't find it in herself to complain about being forced to this game. Especially when a small part of her was curious to see how Slytherin would perform under the direction of their new captain.

During one of their uneventful evenings of watching the potion, Malfoy had told her that he had been offered the position but declined. She didn't implore any further, knowing it likely had something to do with his other commitments but from what little he disclosed to her regarding the person who did accept the offer, it sounded like there would be significant changes implemented. Changes that would potentially provide everyone in the audience the once-in-a-lifetime chance to see Slytherin snag themselves a true and honest win for the first time in decades.

It also presented her an ideal opportunity to talk to him after the game.

As expected with what she learned about his weekly meetings, she didn't see him the entire day following their 'run-in' at Hogsmeade. Initially, she had the temptation to approach him the next day to discuss the events of the evening as the majority of them were still foggy to her. But when she caught a glimpse of him that Monday morning, a vision of her becoming hysterical in a mysterious man's hold and wrenching herself free before falling into him flashed across her eyes. She halted mid-step. Then she proceeded to turn around and walk in the opposite direction before he could catch sight of her.

The next time she spotted him outside of class was during the lunch hour. With Ginny and Luna at her side, they headed to the Great Hall where he stood just outside the entrance with a familiar brunette she was quickly recognizing to be a nuisance. The Pureblooded wizard didn't seem to notice them and continued to go on about the upcoming game this weekend. The first game of the season. Astoria nodded along, seemingly attentive to his controlled excitement. Until all of a sudden, her gaze shifted to Hermione as they walked behind her oblivious beloved, eyes narrowing and riddled with venom.

Hermione found herself glowering back at her.

Malfoy had trailed off mid-sentence, realizing Astoria was no longer listening to him and turned his head to catch the tail end of a head with bouncing, curly locks before they disappeared into the Great Hall.

Throughout the week, they adopted mannerisms similar to what they were at the beginning of the year where they constantly slipped past each other like leaves in the wind. Hermione knew in her case it was purely out of embarrassment as opposed to animosity whereas Malfoy's reasons were still unknown. Blaise and Theo — as shockingly loyal companions as they were — refused to disclose any further details regarding him or that dreaded evening. Or more accurately, they were hesitant to do so. Eventually, the bookworm deemed it would be best to hold off on pressing and let herself naturally recollect what had happened.

By the end of the week, she remembered everything.

Never in her life did she envision her inner circle would include members from all houses, including members of Slytherin house. Nor did she think she would be revisiting the active notion of removing Ron from that circle. As much as she wanted to blame him for her foolish and reckless actions, deep down she knew she had no one else to blame but herself. Moments like that evening made her wish she kept her time turner. Or if she could voluntarily obliviate herself to erase the part where she erratically blew up at her best friend and practically threw herself at her childhood tormentor in the midst of her drunk stupor, that would suit her as well.

There were days — _many days_ — she spent wondering how she came to having the life she had now. Her old self would never have done these things. Pre-war Hermione would have limited her free time to primarily involve keeping Harry and Ron out of harm's way. She would have resumed keeping her head in her books. She would have continued to believe final exams were the one of the most important fundaments to life.

Pre-war Hermione wouldn't be spending her free time with Ginny Weasley and Luna Lovegood in Hogsmeade shopping for dresses and other materialistic possessions.

She wouldn't be helping the students who used to make fun of her looks and upbringing, ridiculing her in front of her peers.

She surely wouldn't be caught dead being bothered with known the one and only spoiled, bigoted Draco Malfoy in the way she had been all year. She would have never considered interacting with him as a normal part of her routine, or finding civil conversation with their endless topics of discussion ranging from the flaws of wizarding politics to proper ways of completing certain homework assignments. Not to mention her efforts in helping him avoid an unwanted interaction with his—

_She's not my girlfriend._

—whatever she was.

She certainly wouldn't be letting him crowd her or tolerate him shoving her against a wall during a heated argument, bringing them in such close proximity for her to be able to smell his crisp scent emanating from his stiffened, dark form. To the point where she could feel his heartbeat racing rapidly alongside her own. With such a firm grip to keep her grounded, it forced her to face everything she had been running from—

Hermione shuddered at the foreign sensation the thought of that encounter set off in her. Shaking off the thought, she willed for the feeling to subside before she had time to dwell on it.

"Hermione?" Ginny implored, a hint of mirth etching in her tones. "Are you alright there?"

Hermione blinked rapidly as she surfaced from her thoughts. "I'm fine. Has the game started yet?"

"No. We're still waiting for Madame Hooch to arrive." Ginny grinned wickedly. "Distracted, are we?"

"What? No! That's not what I was—" she trailed off. Ginny's smile only grew when the tops of Hermione's cheeks reddened.

"Relax, Mione. I'm just messing with you. Though I can't say I blam-oh! _There's_ _Madame Hooch. She's about to start the game_!" Ginny whispered excitedly. She noticed the entire stadium had gone silent and everyone's focus was one place and one place only. Hermione finally looked down to the center of the field where a player from each team stood facing each other, dismounted and a woman carrying a case towards them. Once Madame Hooch reached the middle of the field, she set the case down and turned her attention to the tense players in front of her.

"Captains, shake hands," she demanded swiftly, watching the players intently as they warily carried out her instructions. Once they shook hands, she addressed the rest of the team suspended in the air. "Today brings us the start to a brand new season of quidditch and I anticipate you all will play your best," she declared loudly. "I expect a nice, clean game from all of you, am I understood?"

Once she received a seemingly appropriate amount of feedback, the case was opened. Immediately, the bludgers and the snitch freed themselves from their slots while she reached down for the immobile Quaffle and tossed it up into the air. Madame Hooch blew her whistle the moment it was caught by one of the chasers from Ravenclaw. And thus, the game had begun.

It was quite different watching two teams other than her own house play one another. Ravenclaw always held up their own fairly well in Quidditch but ambition wasn't the first on Slytherin's list of characteristics without good reason. They typically stopped at nothing to get what they wanted. Cheating and playing dirty was just part of the game as they have proven in years past. Except this time, they seem to have a new drive and motivation to win. There were no mischievous grins or immature taunts. There was no malice or evil scheming blatantly displayed across their faces.

Even Malfoy didn't appear to be antsy or on edge while he waited for the snitch to make its appearance. Though she had a strong suspicion that had something to do with the lack of Harry in this particular game. Every now and then, he would do a lap around the perimeter of the field before picking a random spot to remain stationary and observe. Hermione could only be impressed with his display of patience as well as the team's overall matured tactics and approach. Both sides demonstrated wit and determination but this time, Slytherin brought in something she had never seen from them before; the desire to prove themselves.

Needless to say, Ginny had picked a great match to force her to attend. Hermione didn't take her eyes off the field and her books laid forgotten in her bag.

 _"Elena, over here!"_ She heard Ginny say in the background.

 _"Hey Ginny."_ The former sounded relieved to have found them after getting past the crowds of people. " _Thanks for inviting me to come along. Though I didn't expect to see you here,_ _Hermione."_

Hermione shrugged absentmindedly in response.

 _"She'll come to a_ _game every now and then. How were classes this week?"_

She pushed their casual conversation further away while she listened for Luna's airy voice as she continued to provide commentary regarding the ongoings of the game.

"—and it's Layla Cabbott from Ravenclaw with the Quaffle now! She's headed for the goal except there's a rather large Slytherin player directly in front of her...though I can't quite remember his name...I think it's Eddleman or Edenton _—_ "

" _Eddington_!" came a voice from beside Luna. Even with the crowd at its loudest, anyone could hear recognize Professor McGonagall's callous undertones any day.

"Ah _Eddington_ , that's right. Anyhoo, Eddington's guarding the hoop and there Cabbott goes, she aims for the hoop to score and _—oh!_ And Zabini from Slytherin decided to come in to intercept. And it would seem all of Ravenclaw's chasers have taken an interest in him but look at him move! He's going so fast! I never knew a chaser could move like that _—"_

Her eyes widened slightly, knowing Zabini's agility and eversion were not skills he possessed previously. She then glanced up to where Ravenclaw's seeker was scowling at Malfoy who, on the other hand, was oddly composed. If anyone else decided to pay the seekers any mind, they would think he hadn't heard Luna's inexplicit complements. But Hermione could see the glimmer of pride in his otherwise stoic gaze.

Her lips twitched upwards.

" _—_ he goes in for the goal and YES! That's 10 points for Slytherin!"

Hermione jumped from her seat and cheered loudly. Ginny snickered when she sat back down. "It's just a goal, Hermione."

"I'm aware. Your point being?"

"You seem awfully excited seeing as they haven't even won yet."

Hermione crossed her arms defiantly, "I'm showing support for our friends. Isn't that why I'm here?"

Ginny's expression morphed into one that she had seen on Malfoy's face many times before and Hermione didn't appreciate it one bit.

"They're really moving out there, aren't they?" Elena commented aloud. Hermione glanced at her quizzically.

"She's never been to a Quidditch game," Ginny explained.

"Really?" Hermione asked, surprise etching her tones.

Elena shrugged. "I've never really had a reason to come to one. None of my friends were on the team and I'm not particularly fond of violence as you know."

"What changed your mind?"

She received her answer when Elena began to flush but that didn't stop Ginny from adding in her remarks.

"She's here for the same reason you are...except she's honest about it," Ginny stated, tone riddled with mischief.

"I will have you know, I fully support everyone on each team and admire their dedication to a game I still believe to be heinously ruthless and unnecessarily merciless. But it mattered to my friends and thus it matters to me so if you think I'm strictly here for Malfoy _—_ " effectively being cut off when Ginny's grin turned positively wicked.

"I don't believe I mentioned anything about Malfoy, Hermione." Out of the corner of her eye, Hermione saw Elena refrain from smiling as she tried to suppress her amusement.

Hermione pursed her lips together, unwilling to protest or continue this conversation any further.

Luna's light voice continued to travel throughout the pitch, keeping everyone engaged in the game. Unlike most commentators, she had the capability of providing more details than what was needed or desired. Though it helped when one was unfamiliar with Quidditch. For Hermione, it pointed out strange plays she wasn't familiar with and fouls that she didn't quite understand. Luna always had a rather abstract approach to most things in life. Which was why it was beneficial to catch on to the subtle _—_ yet obvious when mentioned _—_ plays;

" _—_ I'll admit I've never really followed this sport too closely but I thought a beater's purpose was to knock players off their brooms. Quite honestly, I'm surprised I haven't called out an injury yet."

She did make a fair point. The beaters, particularly the ones from Ravenclaw, were typically notorious for their ruthlessness, one of them being the other Cabbott twin, Loki. She recalled when they nearly won a game against Gryffindor a few years ago due to their beaters eliminating the players one by one, thus preventing them from making any goals. Until Harry was the last one standing and caught the snitch in the nick of time, just seconds before he too had been knocked off his broom.

Luckily for him, he woke up in the hospital later that evening.

Then something stood out to Hermione as she thought of the previous games she attended.

"Ginny?" She felt the redhead come to stand beside her. "Do you see the second bludger anywhere?"

"Hmmm...I don't but I'm sure it'll turn up eventually. They do like to fly off on their own, you know."

Hermione hummed as a half-attempt at an agreement while she recollected the game's progression with a quizzical expression. She didn't recall seeing the second bludger since Madame Hooch released them.

Then Luna's voice tore her away from her thoughts;

"Here comes Prince from Slytherin with the quaffle, diving for the goal _—_ " she announced. "Keeper Cabbott is in place, ready to intercept. Meanwhile, Ravenclaw's Beater Pensen is approaching with the bludger. Wait...is...is Cabbott knocking the bludger _away_ with her broom? She's preventing it from interfering with Prince...and he scores! That's...another 10 points for Slytherin—" she revised, bemused.

"Interesting. It's like Ravenclaw is trying to give them the game." Hermione said aloud to herself.

"They could have panicked." Ginny offered. "It happens more often than you'd think."

"Their choice of plays aren't making any sense, either."

Ginny looked at her in shock. "The _plays_? How in Merlin's beard do you know about—"

"I only know from what Harry has told me about certain tactics. It's not much." Hermione quickly interjected. "Malfoy tried explaining a few to me as well.

"They could just be having an off start," Ginny admitted, still in awe of her friend's admission.

Hermione continued to press, her brain on overdrive from trying to find answers. "I doubt it. Most of those players out there have it out for Slytherin. They had countless opportunities to score and yet they took none of them. And now they're _letting_ them score without interference?" Hermione gnawed on the inside of her cheek, letting the unsettling sensation brew in her gut. Something didn't quite sit right with her. "What if...what if it was intentional?"

"What are you saying?" Ginny asked, curious where her companion was going with this.

Loud exclamations of shock from the crowds robbed them of their attention.

Both witches looked to the field simultaneously as they tried to discover what had just transpired. Their eyes landed on an unconscious Ravenclaw player on the ground. Then Ginny whipped her head around. "Elena, what happened?"

"The Cabbott boy knocked the bludger behind him and hit one of his own teammates," she answered frantically. "It appeared to be an accident. Though it was strange. He had three other Slytherin players in front of him he could have targeted."

Hermione's eyes narrowed into slits as it caught sight of the object one of the three players held in their hands. The quaffle.

"Ouch," Ginny winced at the sights below. "By the looks of it, Gates may have a concussion." She concluded, worry etched into her tones as she turned to address Hermione.

The curly haired witch paid her no mind. Instead, she was witnessing a seemingly indifferent Loki being scolded by other players. With the exception of his sister who's apathy was comparable to his own.

Once the injured player was taken off of the field, the game continued. This time, she kept her focus on the bludger as it made its way around amongst the players. When it eventually made its way back to Loki Cabbott, she kept a closer watch on his body language.

 _Why is he moving the bludger around like that?_ She thought to herself. _He's being awfully cautious with a somewhat harmless ball._

The bookworm flickered her eyes between the two balls that were currently in play on the field. Taking the Cabbotts' strange behavior into consideration, she quickly realized there was a recurrent theme; the lone bludger and quaffle hadn't been near each other the entire game. In fact, Ravenclaw maintained possession of the bludger for the majority of the game and their seemingly sporadic actions made it such that both balls were kept at a reasonable distance. Then the question she directed to Ginny came back to her;

 _What if it was intentional_...?

They couldn't be playing to win.

No...there had to be a more sinister plot at play here.

Hermione sat straight up and redirected her focus to the players who were consistently placed in the epicenter;

The Cabbotts.

She didn't know too much about the boy other than the tragedy he shared with his sister in regards to the unfortunate fate their parents endured. She suspected the siblings grew closer as a result.

_She spends so much time with her brother, you'd think they were partners._

It was an incident his twin made evident to most of the student body with her explicit resentment towards the majority of Slytherin house. Even to her potions partner despite his friendly approach and benevolent nature. The most recent Hermione had heard regarding her was when Nott complained of her persistence to complete the potion several weeks ago.

_She's acting like the first quidditch match coming up is the deadline._

The deadline for their hyperactive potion with erumpant parts.

Suddenly, the words from Slughorn's lecture filled her head;

_—potions involving erumpent parts in their creation are notorious for their reactivity. In more recent years, they used to be used as a sort of weapon, designed to combust upon impact with another substance._

Perhaps the reason their passes weren't playing any sense was because they had an ulterior motive from the very beginning.

They weren't playing to win at all.

They were plotting to kill.

Hermione felt the air leave her lungs as she willed herself not to lose her composure. Certainly not when she first needed to figure out if there was even anything to get worked up about. No...now, she needed to concentrate. She thought and pondered the worst case scenarios as years preparing for the war had trained her to do.

With the ongoings in her surroundings, her senses were forced into overdrive, making it immensely difficult for her to focus. Then again, she could be overreacting. All of her worries and panic could be for nothing. Overshadowing her uncertainty was the request McGonagall made at the start of term.

_Though I know a good few whose families suffered a great deal by the hands of some of our very own Slytherin students and their elders. Some may not take kindly to sharing a class or a corridor with each other and may seek retaliation by drastic measure. Given what you just told me about the trials and what you are capable of, I feel it is safe to trust your judgement and would like you to keep a close eye if you are able. Many are still suffering as an aftereffect of the war and I want no accidents—_

_I understand, Professor. I'll do my best..._

Hermione shook her head to rid herself of the doubts. Now was not the time for second guessing and what ifs. If carrying Harry and Ron through school and the war over the last few years had shown her anything, it was that they trusted her instincts for good reason. It was the very same reason McGonagall entrusted her with such a daunting task. She had the chance to prevent something awful from happening to any one of the people she dared to call friends.

And she sure wasn't about to let it start today.

Her train of thought continued.

If Ravenclaw had the intention of harming someone, anyone on the opposing team was a likely target. She ruled out targeting the entire team as the risks of pulling an attack that large of a scale would risk injuring many of their own and innocent bystanders. Then there was also the factor of who was likely the culprit, or culprits, behind this elaborate plot. The Cabbotts were notoriously clever and obviously had taken the time to plan everything out. Even under the discretion of their teammates. If they were aiming for only one player, they would have to be absolutely sure they would be in one place for a certain amount of time so no one else was harmed.

Then the answer came to her.

"Ginny?" Her voice had elevated slightly in pitch. "Could I borrow you for a moment?" She tugged lightly on her sleeve.

"What? Why _—ah!_ " Ginny yelped when Hermione tugged her forcefully by her robes.

"Hurry up, will you?" Hermione whispered urgently before turning and exiting through the nearest stairwell.

Ginny groaned dejectedly and turned her attention to Elena. "Give us a moment." She stated as calmly as she could manage before she followed suit.

"Hermione?" She called loudly as she descended down the staircase. Hermione had stopped at the first landing, staring out onto the field.

"Mind telling me what's gotten your knickers in a twist?" hissed Ginny as she took a place next to her. But Hermione wasn't listening.

"We need to get closer." Hermione shot back, agitated. She had hoped to be able to spectate out of sight from the players so as to not raise any suspicion but when she saw how far away still, she knew they needed to get closer. "Come on." she commanded lightly before darting down the next set of steps. Sometimes taking two steps at a time.

"What? Hermione, wait!" Ginny yelled in hopes of getting her to slow down. It was a lost cause.

"Why are you trying to get closer to—whoa!" When she reached the bottom of the stairs and went to step foot onto the field, she was jerked back instantly. They stood at the bottom of the staircase still hidden from view with more than a dozen Quidditch players cruising at rampant speeds at varying altitudes above them. Seeing as she was used to being the one on the broom, Ginny lost her words at the sight before her. But Hermione wasn't fazed in the slightest. Her eyes darted about the skies, completely neglecting her companion who still required answers.

"Hermione, would you please tell me what's going on?"

At her desperate plea, Hermione wrestled her eyes away from the players for a brief second to address her. After a moment's beat, she finally answered.

"This may seem a tad far-fetched," she started carefully. "But I think Ravenclaw is plotting something."

"Plotting," Ginny repeated slowly. "Plotting to do what, exactly?"

Hermione swallowed. "I think there's an erumpant potion on that field and someone on Slytherin team is the target."

Ginny's clenched jaw went slack. "Come again?"

"I-I'm not entirely certain but I have a hunch—"

"Why would you—who would even—?" Ginny asked in a rush, stumbling over her words. "The entire Ravenclaw team?"

"I don't think the entire team is behind it." Hermione admitted. "I think it's mainly the Cabbotts."

Ginny mulled over her words. Sure, their playing today wasn't their best and people have died from the sport although many more have met their demise simply from attempting to make said potion.

"Where would they even get an erumpant potion?"

"Nott's and Cabbott's potion was declared live as of last Friday." Hermione quipped.

"Slughorn never told us that." Ginny stated in a stunned hush. "And the deadline isn't for another month."

"Nott told me when they submitted it. He said she was adamant about finishing their potion quickly and I don't think it was to obtain full marks. I hardly think it's a coincidence that she desperately wanted it completed before the first Quidditch match."

"But erumpant potions are dormant unless provoked, correct? Wouldn't it need to react with another substance to combust?"

"Both balls on the field have been kept at great lengths from each other. It's why their plays aren't making any sense. Not to mention there's still the case of the missing bludger."

Ginny's apprehension was evident. "I don't know about this, Hermione—"

"If you don't believe me, you can go back up to Elena—"

"It's not that I don't want to believe you. It's just...it's a bit much. It's an elaborate plot to begin with and you honestly think they have it out for Slytherin enough to pull off something like this? You know erumpant potions used to be used as assassination methods."

"Yes." She confirmed, without a trace of hesitation. "You weren't there for the trials over the summer. The Cabbott's parents were on the list of tortured victims whose bodies still haven't been found to this day."

"So they have a motive. But that doesn't mean they're aiming to inflict an erumpant potion which, need I remind you, can kill people. Besides, nothing's even happened yet."

"I think they've just been stalling this entire time."

"For what?"

"For the right moment."

"But even if they were to succeed, they could risk injuring one of their own. No matter how good a player's aim is, everyone is moving very fast. They'd have to target someone who doesn't move for the majority of the gam—" She trailed off, finally catching on to Hermione's theory. Ginny's face grew pale. "You...you don't think—"

"I need to get to him." She went to make a run for it towards the middle of the field. Towards him.

"Mione, wait." Alas, she was jerked back by Ginny's firm grip on her wrist. "If you're wrong about this and you interfere with the game—let alone, with a team's _seeker_ — _"_ she hissed.

"I'm well aware, Ginny." Hermione interrupted sharply, wrenching her arm from her hold. "But I refuse to sit and watch from the sidelines to find out. Because if I'm right about this _—_ " she bit her lip to refrain from finishing her sentence. If she was right about this, they would likely be seeing a dead body at the end of it all.

 _His_ dead body.

Determined, Hermione looked up. "Look," She pointed at Layla who was roaming about the field with the quaffle in hand, in no apparent hurry to score a goal. Hermione's eyes flickered back to Malfoy who was currently stationary in the middle of the invisible circle she formed, completely oblivious of her intentions. At the last minute, she tossed the quaffle to the next person available, likely to avoid suspicion yet keeping it in the vicinity. "They're hovering and keeping the quaffle in range. I need you to go and grab Professor McGonagall while I try to get his attention."

"He's hundreds of feet up in the air, Mione! How do you plan on _—_ "

"For Godric's sake Gin, I need you to _focus_." Hermione blurted out in a form of a demand, desperation seeped in the undertones as she attempted to remain calm. Ginny's eyes widened slightly. "We are running out of time. I made a promise and I intend to keep it. Now please, go inform McGonagall and bring her here."

Without another word, Ginny closed her agape mouth and made her way towards the stands where the professors sat.

Hermione turned back to face the field, tilting her head up to where the players were suspended in the air above her.

She felt her stomach drop when the twins glanced at each other, malice and hatred in their gazes. Before she could stop herself, her legs carried her out onto the middle of the field until she was directly beneath him. "Malfoy!" She heard herself shout, knowing fully well the chances of him hearing here were slim to none.

Or so she thought.

Her breath stuttered when she saw his face scrunch slightly and he looked over to where she was sitting in the stands previously.

So she called for him again. This time, he shifted his attention straight down. Then his eyes found hers.

With a frantic expression on display, she waved her arms as a gesture for him to move from his spot but he only furrowed his brow at her, befuddled.

Her eyes gravitated towards the bludger which fell into the hands of Loki Cabbott who was conveniently positioned a fair distance behind the unsuspecting blond. Instead of hitting it back, the beater held onto it.

On the other side of the pitch, Layla Cabbott had caught the Quaffle once more and instead of flying towards the hoops, she turned her broom to face the opposite direction to head straight for him.

The silence fell on Hermione's shoulders. Luna wasn't even commentating anymore. Meaning she either became distracted or she realized what was happening.

_If it's too reactive and you do not have a buffering potion on standby, a strong shielding charm should suffice. But you best make sure it's good._

High on adrenaline and desperate for a solution, she quickly extracted her wand from the pocket of her robes and pointed it directly at him.

She felt a pang in her chest when his silvery eyes widened in shock and confusion but there were no other options.

Time had run out.

" _Protego maxima—"_ She chanted strongly. A large, white beam emitted from her wand and headed directly towards him. Just as it began to engulf him, the bludger and quaffle collided, exploding into fragments of shards and dust that shattered across the entire arena. A loud boom filled the pitch and with the force of the blast, Hermione was knocked off her feet, dropping her wand as she fell back on the ground. Screams of horror were dispersed amongst the crowd as a thick plume of smoke spread from end to end but Hermione was only able to hear the ringing in her ears.

When Hermione opened her eyes, all time stopped when she saw his still figure fall from the cloud of smoke. She could do nothing but watch helplessly from below as he plummeted towards the ground.

It felt like an eternity had passed when another figure clad in green suddenly swooped down from the smoke on their broomstick, catching the unconscious blond mid-flight.

_Blaise._

She let go of the breath she didn't realize she'd been holding this whole time. Blaise quickly hopped off from his broom and lowered it to ease his injured teammate gently onto the ground.

His mouth was moving but she could only make out a few of the words with how fast and frantic must have been talking.

"...still breathing...pretty bad...blood..."

She only nodded and knelt to the ground, crouching beside his still form. Thankfully, it didn't take long for the ringing to subside as she was able to recognize the sound of other people shuffling towards them from behind.

 _I thought something was off about the game_ , she faintly heard Blaise say to whomever was behind her but she didn't acknowledge either of them for nothing else mattered in that moment.

The brunette trembled, taking in his even paler complexion and bloodied uniform. Without thinking, she cupped his face in her palms. His skin was growing cold. And fast.

"Malfoy?"

No response.

" _You!_ "

Hermione released her hold on him and looked up to see an irate Layla Cabbott marching up to them, wand out and pointed directly at her. "You ruined everything!"

Instinctively, Hermione stood and placed herself between them.

"Stay back."

"Step aside, Granger. That monster needs to pay for what he's done." she snarled.

"I think you've done enough."

"Why are you defending him?" Cabbott nearly shouted. "For years, all he did was torment you! He hates everything you stand for!"

"He's here to make things right. He deserves a second chance."

"You've gone soft for him, haven't you?"

"I didn't realize not wanting him dead was classified as going soft—"

"You know he would've killed you on the battlefield if he had the chance—" Hermione willed for her heart to settle back in her chest. _You're wrong. He wouldn't have_ , she thought. At least that was something she knew for a fact. "Now step aside so I can return the favor."

"If you want him, you'll have to get through me." Hermione stated boldly, despite having dropped her wand in the middle of the explosion.

"So be it." Cabbott hissed. She went to cast what was likely a hex except the wand in her hand ejected and flew into the air. They watched it as it fell straight into the hand of an infuriated McGonagall.

"Stand down, Miss Cabbott." She warned dangerously.

With a shout of anger, Layla ran towards Hermione but was tackled to the ground before she could reach her. She let out a yelp of pain when Professor Greeves held her arms on her back and summoned a pair of magical cuffs to hold them in place.

"I do believe I told you to stand down." McGonagall tsked disapprovingly. "Get her into my office and notify the aurors immediately. We will need to take legal action for this one. And find Mister Cabbott as well. It would seem he decided to conduct a disappearing act."

As they were taken off the field, Hermione turned her attention back to the blond laying on the ground, covered in bruises and dried blood.

She crouched beside him, willing for him to open his eyes and give any sign of life. She hoped if she stared long enough, he would sneer at her. He would tell her she was too close and that she needed to stop staring at him. At this point, she could do with just about anything.

"Miss Granger? Are you listening to me? Miss Granger?" McGonagall was talking to her but it didn't seem like her words were registering. Then she felt tapping on her shoulder.

"Hermione?" Ginny. "Hermione, we need to back off. They have to take him to the hospital." She whispered to her.

Blinking out of her stupor, she nodded shakily. "Right. Right." Once Ginny steadied her, she let the redhead lead her away to give them the space they required.

The pair, along with both teams, watched in silence as they lifted his limp body from the ground and took him away from the pitch.

So much for the start of a promising season.

* * *

Hermione stood outside the hospital wing, awaiting for Madame Pomphrey's word to allow visitors. With the damage she could visibly see on him, she anticipated a long wait.

"You really shouldn't be here." Came a scorn voice from behind.

She turned her head to come face to face with Astoria.

"Last I checked, the hospital welcomed all visitors." Hermione stated passively.

"Visitors who in some way mean something to the patient." She quipped defiantly. "He won't care to see you."

Hermione had to restrain herself from rolling her eyes. A gesture she had become more familiar with in the last few weeks, especially. "I think I'll take my chances."

"So you can take the opportunity to slip him a death potion?" Astoria accused.

"If I wanted him dead, I wouldn't have intervened."

"Or maybe you went along with the plot so he would suffer the most. How else would you have 'seen this coming'?" she implored, putting emphasis on the last bit of the phrase with quotations.

Hermione huffed a sarcastic laugh. "Because I actually paid attention to the game instead of staring at him the entire time. The curly haired witch took pride in the rage that surfaced from within her.

"That mouth of yours is going to get you in trouble, you know."

"Like yours is any better." She shot back, recalling how she spat off countless accusations the day she stood up for Malfoy.

"You don't know a damn thing, Granger." She hissed.

"I never claimed to. I'm just here to make sure he is doing okay."

She scoffed pretentiously, crossing her arms. "Oh, give me a break. Don't pretend like you care after everything that's happened between you two. Unless...you're finally willing to admit the truth."

"What truth?"

"That you lied to me from the very beginning. That you do have feelings for him."

Hermione's jaw dropped slightly, fully closing it when McGonagall stepped through the doors. Before she even had a chance to speak, Astoria had beat her to it.

"How is he? Will he be alright? When can I see him?" she asked frantically.

"Calm yourself, Miss Greengrass. Mister Malfoy will be just fine. Madame Pomphrey was able to heal the majority of his injuries from the attack but he will need time to recover—"

"When can I see him?" She tried to brush past the Headmistress but was stopped in place.

"You will be granted entrance when he is awake. In the meantime, Miss Granger. Do you mind? I would like to have a word."

"Excuse me? I'm going to be his bloody _wife_ —" Astoria exclaimed, utterly outraged.

"I'm afraid I am in agreement with her, Professor." Hermione admitted, equally shocked that even she was being put before the person he was to wed.

"To my understanding, the status of your betrothal contract remains pending, am I correct? Or has Mister Malfoy finally provided his full consent to your arrangement?" Hermione was too preoccupied with trying to appear neutral to notice the way their headmistress's eyes flickered over to her briefly. "Seeing as Miss Granger played a vital role in his survival, I would think it appropriate for me to discuss certain details with her."

"But—but I—" Astoria stammered. Hermione bit the inside of her cheek to refrain from grinning in satisfaction.

"Please return to your dormitory, Miss Greengrass. You will be the first to know when he wakes up. You have my word."

Astoria huffed and turned on her heel to leave. When the door slammed shut, Hermione glanced uncertainly at the elder woman.

"Please, Miss Granger. Come in. There actually are a few matters I would like to discuss with you."

Without another word, she stepped into the wing and let her eyes fall onto the one of the occupied beds. Without realizing it, she picked up her pace and walked up to his bedside, taking a seat at one of the chairs placed next to him. Thankfully, most of the ash and dried blood had been cleaned from his skin and he had been changed from his soiled uniform into a gown. From what she could see, there were several cuts on his face and his head had been bandaged. She didn't even want to think about what damage lay beneath the sheets.

Luckily, yet unfortunately for her, she had her fair share of experiences in the wing with both Harry and Ron being heavily involved with quidditch. Despite who the victim was, she couldn't help but notice similar feelings begin to arise. She liked to think it was due to her frequent visits in the past.

"I fear I have neglected to consider how you are feeling." Hermione tilted her head at her, curious where the headmistress was going with this. "If Miss Greengrass has been giving you trouble—"

"I failed, Professor." The words that tumbled from her lips surprised herself almost as much as they did the elder witch. It had been her greatest fear for as long as she could remember and she just willingly admitted it without hesitation.

"How on earth did you come to that conclusion?" The elder witch asked, appalled.

"That attack nearly killed him—"

" _Nearly_ killed is what's important to note. If you hadn't seen it coming, it _would have_ killed him." McGonagall emphasized, taking a seat across from her on the other side of the bed. "You saved his life. You did a great deed today, Miss Granger."

Guilt-ridden into silence, Hermione could only stare at the boy occupying the bed in front of her. Even when he treated her poorly in their childhood years, she never once wished to see him on his deathbed. And now that he had been trying to redeem himself all year...

He truly didn't deserve any of this.

"Forgive me for being frank, Miss Granger. I couldn't help but notice a slight...change in regards to your relationship with Mister Malfoy." The bookworm made no sort of acknowledgement towards her statement. So she continued. "I will admit I'm not as attuned to the ongoings as Albus was. Nor am I a regular consumer of the gossip you and your fellow classmates conjure. But the change is obvious. You're not inducing any accidental magic by rage, your arguments aren't nearly as frequent as they were. You're cooperating well in regards to your assignment. Professor Slughorn has sung his praises about you two. He was most impressed with your progress. As am I."

Hermione mulled her words. "I appreciate your sentiments, Professor though I can't say it was purely coincidental. You see, I believe there were exterior forces at play as well." She threw her a smirk even Malfoy would be proud of. "You wouldn't happen to be conspiring behind our backs, would you Professor?"

Professor McGonagall was taken aback, caught off guard by her bluntness. "I...may have had something to do with the decision, yes."

"But why?" Hermione asked, genuinely curious.

"When you've lived as long as I have, you see so many young faces with much potential. I've even seen a pureblood and muggleborn who desired each other be torn apart by prejudice and hatred of insignificant qualities." She cleared her throat, brushing down the silk of her deep, green robes as she stood and walked over to a window.

Hermione's eyes were glued to where she sat but McGonagall was looking far ahead in the distance.

"I am also not surprised that you have been so quick to understand this. To see past it. As you witnessed today, there are many who will forever see an ex-Death Eater as just that. There are some who will never think differently. Similarly to the way I kept my eye on you, Potter and Weasley, I did the same for him. The summer holiday had not been easy for him. Even after the trials ended. I was worried Mister Malfoy would be forced to endure more than petty name-calling and heinous accusations. Even if he does everything he can to amend his broken name."

Walking over to where she stood, McGonagall placed a warm hand on Hermione's shoulder.

"I know how difficult it might be to cope without Mister Weasley and Mister Potter. But I expected nothing less than for you to find your own way here without them."

"You were hoping I would befriend him," she quickly realized.

"Befriend is a strong word," she smiled knowingly. "I had hoped for the two of you to find some form of common ground. Perhaps peace, if anything."

Her eyes tilted downward to him. "He doesn't like to admit it. But in many ways, he was similar to us," she acknowledged. "Especially Harry. He was never really given much of a choice. Their paths were paved for them long before they were born."

"This was precisely why I felt it best for you of all others to reach out to him. Because you are capable of seeing beyond one's mistakes and see them for who they could be had they been given a choice."

She considered her words carefully, all the while feeling an odd sensation building up in her chest.

"Thank you, Professor." Hermione glanced up at her, meeting her light smile with one of her own before switching her gaze to the unmoving figure in front of her.

"I should warn you, I don't know how long it will be before Miss Greengrass finds her way back here so I encourage you to use your time wisely." The warm hand on her shoulder disappeared and her footsteps proceeded to fade. When the sound of the door closing shut hit her ears, she scooted her chair closer, examining him.

It was a rare occasion to see anything but a scowl, smirk or some form of condescending expression on his face. Let alone to see him so still as if he were sleeping. It was almost unnerving how pale he had become from the blood loss. She had to refrain from giving in to the urge to touch his skin to see if it were as flawless and smooth as it looked.

"This shouldn't have happened to you," she said softly, uncharacteristically gentle and polite compared to the way she normally spoke to him. "I'm so sorry." She winced at her own words, fully aware he would tease her to no end if she ever spoke to him that way.

"Malfoy," she spoke up slightly. "I know how thick you can be. Therefore, I imagine you are just as difficult to wake up, but I think I deserve a token of gratitude for practically saving your life."

She hoped by some miracle he would sit straight up in his hospital bed and glare at her. " _Granger_ ," he'd drawl out sarcastically, refusing to take her seriously. " _Thank you for being ever so noble. Now do shut up so I can go back to sleep_."

Yet, he remained still. Completely unresponsive.

"It's so like you to be ungrateful," she continued. "The least you could do is pretend to be appreciative of my efforts."

" _Oh please_." He would have rolled his eyes dramatically. " _I'm practically exhuming with gratitude_."

She couldn't help but let out a giggle at her internal dialogue. "You're the absolute worst." When her laughter subsided, the reality of the situation set in with the fact that she was still very much alone.

" _Hermione?"_

Instantly, she perked up at the warmth that voice provided her. The chair she sat in screeched across the floor as she jumped from her seat and ran towards the person who said her name with such familiarity.

"Harry." She beamed at him as he met her halfway, enveloping her in a tight embrace. "Merlin, I've missed you."

"It's good to see you too, Hermione." He laughed, patting her back gently.

"What are you doing here?" She asked, refusing to let go of him.

"I came with the head auror. He's interrogating the Cabbott twins right now. I wanted to see how you were doing and I was told I would find you here." He pulled further slightly to face her, worry etched across his features. "Are you alright? You aren't hurt?"

"I'm fine." She nodded somberly before glancing over to his bed.

"You've done a good thing, Hermione. I know it's Malfoy but _—_ "

"That's not why I'm unhappy. We've...actually been getting on rather well."

"Really?" He stared at her in shock. "You're serious?"

She nodded slowly.

"With Malfoy. The ferreted git, _Draco_ Malfoy?

"For heaven's sake Harry, yes."

"Oh. Well, I'm glad he's not giving you any more trouble. I thought Ginny was overexaggerating for your benefit."

"What is it that she has told you?"

"Just that you weren't arguing all the time. And that you've spent time outside of class together without harming one another."

"And that's over exaggerating?"

He stared at her pointedly. "It's Malfoy."

She hummed in agreement. "Fair point."

"Do I want to know how this happened?"

"We were assigned to be partners for Slughorn's final task."

He eyed her hesitantly. "That's all it took?"

"Mind you, it hasn't exactly been the easiest task," she rolled her eyes at him in annoyance but mostly out of endearment.

He winced apologetically, "I'm sure it's been difficult with everything going on over the last few months. I also heard about what he did for you at night at Hogs Inn."

She grimaced at the thought. "How did you _—"_ she paused when she remembered the other man involved in the confrontation. "the Auror told you."

"Adams, yes. Ron refused to tell anyone what before he sent him to get you but Adams told us."

"He helped me," she confessed, saying the words out loud for the first time.

"He's trying to redeem himself, then."

"It's unfortunate," she sighed in frustration. "He's trying so hard to clear his name yet everything falls onto him all because of his…" she trailed off, an idea suddenly coming to her. "Harry?"

"Yes?"

"Are you still on good terms with Kingsley?"

"Well yes. We have lunch together nearly every Thursday." He narrowed his eyes, glancing curiously at her. "Why do you ask?"

"I'd like to ask him for a favor..."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/n: Sooooo let me start by saying I did fully intend on uploading this chapter a month ago but a lot of shit happened in November and if you follow me on Tumblr, you'll know I was preoccupied with other things to maintain my sanity so this took a back seat for a bit. Also because this chapter was extremely difficult to write and I reeeeeally hope I did it justice.
> 
> On another note, today also marks the one year birthday of Wonderwall! Thank you to everyone who has been supporting this since day one and I hope you all continue to enjoy reading as the plot develops :)


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